Avatard.

Before the people who read this (two) who loved the blockbustering film Avatar (43 gajillion) get all bent out of shape about the title of this post, I'll say up front that I liked the movie. That being said, the rest of this will be a sort of anticlimatic drivel. I can only hope it doesn't come off that way. Being that I liked it, I will come out and say that it's not the bestestest movie ever made, nor do I enjoy it for the same reasons others might. On to business.

Avatar is a movie by James Cameron. I think that was the point of it all, but in case you weren't smashed in the goddamn face for not knowing that I thought I'd let that one out. To be honest, I've only seen a handful of his movies, and the ones I've seen (Aliens and the first two Terminators) were pretty enjoyable, although they didn't exactly age well. And contrary to belief, I've made a pact to refuse to watch Titanic, starting from its introduction to the world. I didn't see it because even Barney Fife could see how it would end. Romance, a tit shot, and a sinking boat... need I go further?

My skepticism toward Avatar mimicked that of Titanic's all those years ago - everybody came so hard they exploded their zippers which, when combined with the complimentary 3D glasses, looks extra cool. And I don't follow fads well. The previews did little to excite me and everyone's description of it led me to think this was a live action Ferngully: The Last Rainforest.

After seeing Avatar, I wasn't far off. But there was more to it than that.

The movie goes down like this: a former marine-turned-wheelchair warmer gets a second lease on life when his twin brother dies and he becomes the only person to power a remote-control blue space lemur beast, or Avatar. I get it! Anyway, with the help of Sigourney Weaver and the robot dork from Grandma's Boy, the space marine uses his avatar to encroach on Na'vi (this:)

territory, learning their ways and a little furry love along the way. But a cranky old space marine gets butthurt and wants to blow up shit, and the nice space marine wants to save the planet from American justice. And fucks a space lemur with his space lemur. And rides a giant flying dinosaur thing that fight helicopters. Oh, and the bad guys want to dig up space rock called Unobtanium (LAWL!), which only gets mentioned once because they then decide to just kick the Na'vi to the curb, but the Na'vi fight back... street lemur style.

Believe me, I would do a better job describing it but OH DAMN DAWG YOU GOTTA GO SEE THIS MOVIE FO REALZZZZZ! Or something like that.

For all its lack of originality, Avatar is indeed something I would recommend people go watch. If you're one of those folks who take one look at this movie and think it's the equivalent of movie herpes, smoke a joint before you do see it because it looks fantastic. I would argue that Avatar has the gnarliest special effects of any movie I've ever seen, and that says a lot.

Would you hump one of these chicks? The Internet would.

The things I would complain about, if I felt they dented up the film, are debateable. I watched it in 3D, which was alright for what it was but something I thought wasn't necessary to enjoy it. (I flat-out refused to watch it on IMAX. I HATE the idea of trying to watch a screen so big I have to physically turn to see everything. Pass.) And while the story was derivative and followed a lengthier plot from that old commercial where the Native American picks up litter and sheds a tear, I liked it for what it was and tried not to find any hidden meaning or political tomfoolery ingrained in the concept. I got it and moved on, and felt that overall it was in a place between good and great.

So if you're one of the seemingly few people who haven't watched Avatar, I wouldn't necessarily say go out of your way to see it but keep it in mind. It's a grood movie, and boy oh boy, the pretty colors.

Fuck Titanic.

-C.

2001-2009: The Decade of Vidya Gamings.

If anyone reads these blogs, they might notice that I only seem to write about video games. It is my crutch; I know enough about it to come up with some solid gold. Whereas if I wrote about, say, how marketing affects contemporary society, I'd come up diarrhea sounds and draw a picture of Ronald McDonald having sex with a bag of money with the appropriate "$" label on it. Which sounds good unless that's your semester project for college. So now writing about games seems like a safe venture. Like writing about my favorite games of the last decade.

What I think are awesome, totally kick-ass games will likely be different from everyone else's. For one, I noticed I only picked games that came out in 2001 and thereafter, omitting 2000 altogether. I blame the fear that Y2K placed us in when it came to electronics, and for months afterward we all safely played with balls and sticks and elected George W. Bush into office. There are also no Call of Duty, Halo, or World of Warcraft games on it, which could get me friend declined in certain situations. I also chose to make Spinal Tap fans fill the room with stoney laughter by making this a "Top 11 Games of the Aughts." It was accidental, and I'll explain now.



#11 - Conker's Bad Fur Day (Nintendo 64, 2001)
Conker ended up on the ass end of my list for two reasons. One, it marks the end of innocence in my world of gaming. Two, while not a particularly great game, Conker was pretty unique. See, the N64 had an influx of these cute animal platform games (think Banjo-Kazooie and its ilk), and Conker stabbed all of them with bizarre, Scary Movie-esque parody. Flowers with tits, a singing poop monster, lame rip-offs of Medal of Honor and Resident Evil, and even a Matrix parody back when that was fresh. Even the most affluent of potheads couldn't fathom up half the absurdity of this game. One level has the doe-eyed titular character tricking snooty cows into drinking prune juice so they run over to shit in a sewer drain, only to get eviscerated by an angry bull. Again, Conker wasn't the best game (it was on the N64, after all), but I felt some pathetic desire to pay homage to that nutty system.


#10 - Disgaea: Hour of Darkness (Playstation 2, 2003)
This game reeks of animu idiocracy, and back when it first hit the American shores, I was all over that kind of nerd bullshit. I didn't even know how to play tactical games, but that didn't stop me. Disgaea has a steep yet forgiving learning curve, and allows for some incredibly life-changing replayability: think reaching level 9,999. I never sought to lose that much breath over this game and its awesome sequels and PSP ports, but Disgaea led on to me playing other good tactics games like Jeanne D'Arc and Final Fantasy Tactics. My best character in the game? A fire mage I named Mr. Trippy.



#9 - Saints Row (Xbox 360, 2006)
It may seem odd to place Saints Row the first is on here over the vastly superior sequel, but I say that the second game wouldn't have came without this opening the door. After the Grand Theft Auto series set the go-anywhere, do-anything genre ablaze on the PS2/Xbox generation, the wait for the serious GTA4 was far away. Saints Row, seeing this oppotunity, hopped on the 360 without any competition in sight. This gamble paid off. Saints Row took the gangland territory seizing aspect of GTA: San Andreas, but made it fun. They also did what GTA refuses to do: allow players to create their own character. Saints answered a lot of wishes GTA fans had in general and also helped out in not being a shitty clone like so many others. The sequel is the juicier, beefier, tittier version, but Saints Row set a bar for lethargic gamers everywhere.

#8 - Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney (Nintendo DS, 2005)

My only portable game on the list, Ace Attorney takes the idea of those Carmen Sandiego "Whodunits" and throws some strangely acceptable translation into it. In fact, Ace Attorney is a pure text puzzler wrought in some wacky Perry Mason universe. Unfortunately, I'm retarded when it comes to puzzle solving, so most of my time with this game was spent with a guide on what to do to beat the game (basically a script). But while I cheated my way through this game and the second and part of the third game, I really enjoyed the story and dialogue. It's also one of those games I'd let my grandma play if it didn't have weird Scooby Doo logic when it came to solving crimes.

#7 - Capcom vs. SNK 2: Mark of the Millennium 2001 (PS2/Xbox/GC, 2001)

This was why and how I got my PS2. I'm not going to go into meticulous detail about my love for this game. I love fighters. And while there's not much polish to it (reused Capcom character sprites are way off from the reanimated SNK characters), CVS2 marks the last hurrah of the classic 2D fighting game. Good stuff.

#6 - Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 3 (PS2/Xbox/Gamecube/GBA, 2001)
Pro Skater 3 needed a home on my list for being a fond memory within my heavy PS2 usage. I dabbled to and fro in the Tony Hawk series in the early years, enjoying the arcadey gameplay and bevy of unlockables. Three was kind of the peak of this now-decaying franchise. Like Star Wars? Go play as Darth Maul. Like comic books? Wolverine's in this game. How about demon titties? Yes, go nuts, there's a firey devil babe here, too. This also marked the introduction of Bam Margera into my world, and it's never been the same since. CKY!

#5 - Kingdom Hearts (Playstation 2, 2002)
If someone told me I'd love a game where Donald Duck and Goofy hang out with the Breakfast Club that is Final Fantasy VIII, I'd tell them to fuck off. But Kingdom Hearts is just the game, and I do indeed love it. Taking action gameplay and tossing around some RPG elements, KH took two different franchises and smashed them together quite wonderfully. Some people hate it and call it sissy, but that's the cham of it. This isn't bloody or full of boobs; hell, the main weapon is a goddamn giant key. And while the sequel offered better things like playing as Jack Sparrow and no shitty Little Mermaid singalongs, this game, akin to my theory with Saints Row, bore out those grand things and therefore should be cherished.

#4 - Street Fighter IV (Xbox 360/PS3, 2009)
I've already announced my boner for this game in a previous blog, so I'll spare all that mush. I should explain why SFIV is so low on my list. It might have something to do with the fact that Super Street Fighter IV will be coming out this spring to replace it. Sadly, we'll have to wait until 2020 to see if that game will be the best game of this new decade. I think it will. If it has R. Mika then I will create a new number to surpass 1. I should also say that while I really, really love SFIV, there are a few other games that won over my love with more surprise...

#3 - Bioshock (Xbox 360/PS3, 2007-2008)
I'm not a big fan of first-person shooters, so imagine my "shock" (tee-hee!) when I decided to cash in my chips and play this game about a 1950s underwater utopia gone wrong. Whether it was the creaky submarine sounds, the strange retro decor, or a haunting Jolson tune emitting from a lone record player, this world of Rapture sucked me in. Watching a Big Daddy (think The Hills Have Eyes in a scuba suit) roam aimlessly with its Little Sister child was pure awe, as it would only attack when provoked. The sequel will be out next month and I will get it without question. But I have my doubts - Bioshock set a grand tone that'll be hard to recapture.

#2 - Jet Grind Radio (Dreamcast, 2001)

Ah, the Dreamcast. Such a waste of mirth and quirkiness. Sega's last console bore some really fucked-up, awesome games. My favorite of these being Jet Grind Radio, a game where you pick a Japanese roller blade punk and tag the city with graffiti. The story was awkward, the music was catchy, and the graphics were fucking FANTASTIC for a game coming from that time. After the eyesore games Nintendo pissed out, Jet Grind Radio was like breathing fresh oxygen after standing in the chamber of farts for five years. Sadly, the Dreamcast quickly died and hardly anyone takes the risk to make another game this wacky and Japanese anymore. It should also stand out that out of the eight Dramcast games I own, this is the only one that doesn't involve fighting. Salud.

#1 - Grand Theft Auto: Vice City (Playstation2/Xbox, 2002-2003)
Having a GTA game as my #1 game of the Aughts says something about my love of gaming in this day and age: I love fucking off. But the challenge of deciding out of sportsmanship to only pick one GTA game for this list proved tough. GTA3 was excluded, disproving my theory of letting the bearers of better seeds prosper. I never felt GTA3 was a breathtaking masterpiece, fun as it was. And GTA4 and its sub-sequels are all fine and dandy but sucked out what I loved about the series to begin with. GTA: San Andreas seemed like the surefire winner, as I've clocked in well over 100 hours just dicking around in the game's countryside. But it was Vice City, with its retro-80s chic, Scarface-meets-Miami Vice parody, and bucket of classic 80s music that won the whole thing. Vice City encapsulated everything that the GTA series wanted to be - just a dumb, fun game where you get to do all kinds of things. One of my greatest memories was when I first got the game, my friend Bryan decided to bring his copy and his PS2 over to play on my extra TV. We just sat back-to-back on my bed, playing our own copies of Vice City and having a hoot and a holler. Yeah, it didn't make any damn sense, but it didn't have to, I think. The unfortunate thing is that the game looks absolutely awful today. I guess that's why my memories serve such a purpose: to enlighten the past.

For your health,

-C.

Stereotypes Akimbo Review: Assassins Creed II.

It's settled: the holiday season is near its close. X-Mas has came and went, bringing with it enough snow to rape a metaphorical fire monster (with giant titties!). Hopefully everyone lived through the peril, and those who winced and whined about it better remember that fateful season two years ago where we lost our goddamned electricity for a week or so, and subsequently our minds. And I lived to review yet another vidya game, Assassins Creed II, and I liked it a lot. That in and of itself may be proof that I lost my mind for sure.

Some people may not be so familiar with this irony. See, back when Assassins Creed I reared its head in '07, it came close to destroying the balance of video games good and bad. One could look at the wonderful care put into a game like Grand Theft Auto: Vice City, or Kingdom Hearts, and immediately tell it was made exclusively out of pixie dust and sunshine smiles. These games were set apart from trash like Shrek's Fairy Tale Racers or Barbie Fashion Adventure Pony Fun Fashion. Things were simpler, grander.

Then AC showed up, and people went daffy for it before they had the chance to play it. Then something went wrong. A rather scathing (and rad) review hit that month's Electronic Gaming Monthly and catapaulted AC into a divided group of gamers - those who favored what it had to offer, and those who played the game with its horrific, awkward control setup and shat magma from their frothing maws. My friend Shaun fell into the former group, buying the game and loving it. However, I sadly fell in the other group. I played the game no more than five minutes, and, having failed to press the proper multitude of buttons to jump on a box half my size (Pro tip: it's two buttons plus the analog stick), I basically felt the urge to "fuck this shit" and stormed off to announce my hatred to the world. Or Myspace, anyway. It led to a character being cobbled for my amateur webcomic Veronica Saga, aptly named "Assassin," who does nothing right.

Time passed. The ultimate consensus that AC was interesting potential wasted on assy design. So a sequel was in order.

Assassins Creed II takes the same elements of the first game and transplants them into 15th century Italy. As the pompadour Ezio Auditore, you turn to the life of an assassin after getting screwed over in a major way. With the aid of your bosom buddy, Leonardo Da Vinci (yeah, THAT one), you set out to kill the conspirators that ruined your life. I should also mention that there's a deeper plot involving this dude, Desmond Miles, that's living the lives of his ancestors through a Professor X mind-reading chair built by the real bad guys. Or whatever. The whole plot to Assassins Creed proper is a dastardly J. J. Abrams mind-fuck, anyway, so Ezio's story was the only one I really followed.

What sets this apart from the previous game is the atmosphere of Italy's various districts and towns. As Ezio traverses through the country, he unlocks more and more goodies to assist in his retribution. The biggest element is his own village, which can be upgraded to accomodate his needs, like offering cheaper weapons, armor sets, clothes colors, and healing items. These upgrades increase the village's value, along with Ezio's money pouch. After about eight hours in, this was the only way I really got money since it pays big. If playing Ty Pennington isn't your bag, you can steal small bits of coin from bystanders or play side missions (or story missions, which handsomely reward you for doing the most menial tasks, like walking with your mommy).

The interesting thing about the game's structure is the amount of history lessons one gets out of playing through it. Running across landmarks will instantly offer explanations on why they exist, and get this shit - they're REAL places. Not to mention that Ezio can purchase actual, existing paintings to showcase in his swank art gallery, each potrait with its own explanation. Ubisoft really outdid themselves with the amount of research put into this sucker.

However, I can't deny that ACII's biggest flaw returns. The run-about controls resurface with awkward button configurations that would lead to more casual gamers seething. The setup is so maligned that timing a jump wrong or moving in a different direction may lead to death or worse, fucking up a mission. Having lived through the scat-smeared criticism of the last game, coupled with Ubisoft's last big game Prince of Persia having Playskool-level run-and-jump controls, one would think this could've been fixed. Alas. Not that the controls are outright awful. When they work, they really work. The same could be said of combat, which starts off somewhat unfair (after all, this is pretty much a stealth game), but as Ezio acquires better weapons, armor and skills, becomes fun and practical. The problem this game does have that I can justify griping about is that it does a piss-poor job explaining how to do stuff. Reading game journalists' Twitts about them constantly failing the first run-and-jump mission because ACII doesn't tell you very well how to run and jump made me giggle, but expands my point that these controls are kinda bad. Forgivable, but bad.

Assassin's Creed II, with all its wanky controls and somewhat embarrassing stereotype of Italians, is a very good game. I can't say it'll win everyone's hearts, but it managed to win mine after having an unenjoyable debut that was my five minutes of the first game. One neat thing that I feel like gloating about is that, ironically, ACII is the first 360 game that I managed to net a complete 1000 gamerscore on. Not that I whored out my time and energy to get it, as the game is pretty generous. It just kind of happened.

On a side note, I've also dabbled in some King of Fighters XII, which was mentioned in an earlier post as being a game I wanted but not for the steep price it wasn't worth. One X-Mas gift card later, and issues were settled. Is KOFXII a good fighter? It's hard to say. It's pretty good except it has no Mai Shiranui in it, and a King of Fighters with no Mai in it is pretty much awful. So it's basically a conundrum. I definitely don't feel like dedicating a whole post to it, that's for sure.

Now it's on to Prototype, Brutal Legend, and Jak & Daxter: The Lost Frontier. Somebody blew the video game boner this season.

For your health,

-C.

The Holiday Guide to X-Mas Wishing.

It should be noted that this was stripped from a post on my Myspace blog, back when it was cool to write blogs on there. Much of it is retained here out of spiteful laziness, but for the sake of decency some stuff has been edited, thrown in, or omitted completely. For instance, in the original I bitched about not having the Minghags movie. Now I have it, so wanting it again is just plain silly. Let's continue.

It's that time of year again, when the weather is just sloppy enough to seize up the minds of every motorist within a five-foot radius of me. It's almost bad enough that X-Mas has been reduced to people seeing how much shit they can stuff in their shopping carts, but I can even go into town without some senile asshole getting in my way, trying to tell the difference between a parking space and Mott's applesauce. It's the reason I've been calling Christmas the undignified "X-Mas;" it's went from being a holiday to a brand.

I'll skip ahead past Jesus, because I can't exactly rip on him without ugly rebuttals, and go straight to Santa Claus. I always got those two mixed up anyway - both have beards and wear pajamas, and they give away more gifts to impressionable people than Oprah. Anyway, has anyone noticed that Santa has all but been omitted out of X-Mas? Perhaps we as a society have wisened up to the idea of obese old man in tights gets hauled in the air by Canadian livestock carrying toys built by non-stripping midgets, delivering them through chimneys and surviving on a diabetic coma-inducing diet of milk and cookies. At least, children have, which is sad.

I can see the point, though. I pondered my own realization that Santa is mythical while sitting on the toilet the other day. The reason I stopped believing is because of, of all things, Sesame Street. Besides teaching me colors, numbers, Spanish, and puppetry, its much-beloved X-Mas special bore logic into my toddler brain. A little black boy asked Cookie Monster how Santa could bring him presents since the projects don't have fireplaces. Cookie Monster reasoned that Santa could come in through the window or ring the doorbell. The boy rebuffed, saying that the windows were locked and that people couldn't hear the doorbell if they were sleeping. Instead of coming to a sound conclusion, both child and muppet sat solemnly, then it cut to the next lesson in life. If Sesame Street didn't have an answer, then nobody fucking did.

My own childhood house was equipped with a fireplace, but it was never used as it was either too clogged with soot and potential beasties, or we were too lazy to use it. My child logic dictated that if we never used it, why would Santa? Besides that, our house sat on a faulty embankment, and our house structure was so sketchy that my grandpa, a physical replica of Claus, fell through the roof once like Homer in the Simpsons movie. So the house supporting a herd of deer was out of the question. Not to mention that my dogs would've barked by the disturbance. Lastly, I'd yet to learn how to write and yet I managed to get all the shit I asked for. By the time I started school, Santa became street code for "Mom's checkbook."

This recollection haunted me for a while. Now that I'm older and bitchier, X-Mas is no longer a magical day where I get free prizes, eat the same meal I ate for Thanksgiving, then play with my prizes in the box fort I build out of the boxes my prizes came in. To put this into perspective, for the past couple years I've been buying my own presents for my family to wrap.

To cope with all this bitterness, I've made a wish list of things I'd like to see or have. If I don't get one, I can't fret since many of them are pretty lofty. But I'll look back on the list and giggle, as if I bumped into something friendly with my dong, and if one happens to come true a glisten will escape my eye.

- I wish that whenever the weather is being bad, every motorist who decides to drive like they're being chased by rape ghosts will STAY THE FUCK HOME.

- If that doesn't stop them, I wish some evil weather would send them back home. Not wimpy things like snowdrifts and black ice. I'm talking hailing tripmines or a stampede of lava horses.

- I wish the next reality show about a spoiled rich girl was just twenty minutes of her sitting topless over a dunk tank filled with unhealthy diarrhea. Every time a shopping montage occurs, the bitch gets hit with a baseball and falls in, because there is no target.

- I wish the Octomom would have the decency to dress her children up as the Muppet Babies and have them reenact their fantastic adventures.

- I wish trailers weren't considered bonus features.

- I wish Kid Rock would catch whatever killed Kurt Cobain, so we'd actually have a reason to admire his work.

- If the next Twilight book wants to grab my attention, I wish there would be a group of zombies that smelled like strawberries when you scratched them.

- I wish the next time one of my relatives talked in tongues, a cobra would rise out of a basket.

- I wish the next goddamned Facebook group invite I get would be to something meaningful, like a fuckfest or a "Free Baby Ruth Big Size For Joining" group.

- I wish chunky chicks would stop doing FGAS in their photos. Lying doesn't get you laid.

- I wish somebody with an iPhone would accidentally drop it in the toilet after a huge dooky, then fish it out and continue using it. I mean, they probably waited four, five hours in line for it!

- I wish they would up the ante and go from attack dogs and invest the time and energy to training rape dogs.

- I wish LOL would become a racial slur so it would no longer feel cool to use it as a sole response to something.

- I wish titties were legal. Well, they are, but they'd rather show gruesome chimp attack aftermaths than fresh, healthy boob on TV, and that is no kind of example to lead.

- I wish a vampire lady would burst into my room while I'm asleep, blow me until i spoo in her mouth, and go "BLAH!" like a vampire.

- I wish the next Saw movie was just stock footage of meat processing plants cut with footage of a fat little kid eating candy bars like a sloppy fatty, with chocolate smeared on his mouth and hands, as he's watching TV. Occasionally he paws at the TV, smudging chocolate, and sputters "Tee-Bee." Also, he's watching Fox News.

- I wish Adam Lambert would go back into the closet.

- I wish that the next pop star isn't another one of those plastic owls that are hung up to scare away pests, like Taylor Swift.

- I wish I knew if mermaids existed. As if it matters, since it's going to be tough to afford a fish tank big enough to house a whole girlfriend.

- I wish that someone's farts sounded like a bicycle bell. Not mine, though, because that would drive me crazy like crazy glue.

- I wish that during the holiday shopping spree, two angry fat women would pick up empty shopping carts and swing them at each other. And when the carts clash and get stuck together and a passerby makes a shitty Spaceballs joke, they team up and beat the shit out of him.

- I wish the word "porn" had double meaning. Like it's also a fruit, or an animal or a color. Could you imagine? Porn-flavored fruit snacks. And the nutty thing is that it wouldn't taste like people having sex, but something like blue raspberry.

For your health,

-C.

My Petty Review: GTAIV: Episodes From Liberty City

In April 2008, we were graced with the gift of one of the most spectacular feats in gaming history... Grand Theft Auto IV. It was by far the biggest addition to the series, sending players back to a new, unfamiliar Liberty City teeming with revamped gameplay, controls, and a somewhat-likeable foreign protagonist. Although the game was very good, it wasn't without its faults. Awkward driving controls turned roads into peculiar Slip-N-Slides, getting away from 5-0 proved to be too challenging for its own good, and incessant calls from Cousin Roman to go look at "Beeg Amereecan Teetees" became goddamned annoying. After going to the midnight launch of the game and receiving my collector's edition inside a giant-ass metal safe, it's sad to say I never beat GTAIV. It just wasn't the wacky rollercoater game that Vice City and San Andreas were, and funny enough, the Saints Row series took off and did all the silly shit GTAIV was too serious to allow.

When the first of two downloadable GTAIV supporting games came out last February, I balked. Mostly because I didn't have any clue how to access Xbox Live at the time, and by the time I could kind of, sort of figure it out I found out that it would eventually come alongside the promised second side game on a game disc. Patience is sometimes a virtue. So AWAY WE GO!

The Lost And Damned is the first game, following the adventures of Johnny Klebitz. a no-nonsense biker and vice-president of the Lost gang. Shit hits the fans when their chapter president, Billy Grey, gets released from confinement and the gang begins drug trafficking and otherwise tearing apart at mended wounds with the rival gang, the Angels of Death. Johnny doesn't want any part in this, and tries to keep things civil until Billy kicks one too many figurative babies and the gang becomes persona non grata.

Most of the missions involve bikes, which sounds scary until one realizes that Rockstar seems to have fixed a lot of the driving issues that plagued GTAIV. The game also encourages calling your biker buddies to pitch in with replacement bikes, cheaper guns and ammo, and actual participation in missions. Since most missions involves repetitious shoot-outs, it's also good to know that the shooting and cover system works a hell of a lot better than before. And while characters like Johnny are somewhat likeable, most aren't as memorable, except maybe the corrupt politician Thomas Stubbs, whose full frontal scene stirred maybe ten minutes of controversy. See for yourself, but for the sake of humanity I've replaced the polygonal cock with a picture of a fat kid eating cake.

Overall, TLAD served up a bite-sized story arc in the GTAIV universe that went over much easier than GTAIV's jump-around plot. And while missions were pretty much drive-shoot-repeat, they weren't overhauling thanks to a new mission restart feature added to the series starting here. And TLAD works a lot better as a small story anyway, as a little biker went a long way.

The Ballad of Gay Tony acts as the end-capper to the GTAIV saga. The game has you play as Latin playboy Luis Lopez, the right-hand (and strictly hetero, bro) man of Tony Prince, A.K.A. Gay Tony, the spastic owner of two of Liberty City's premier nightclubs. The game starts with the news that Gay Tony is borrowing money to help keep his clubs in his pockets, and people are coming out of the woodwork to collect. Thus begins a madcap series of events that lead to the ultimate (and awesome) conclusion. Along the way, we meet an innocently racist and rich Arab, a Russian mobster who yells "cunt" a lot, and the older, assier brother of GTAIV's loveable Brucie.

Perhaps the biggest addition to TBOGT is the parachute, which act as a catalyst for a few missions and base-jumping activities. San Andreas introduced them before, but here they show off just how fucking brilliantly big Liberty City 2.0 is. Upon reaching the top of the tallest structure in the city, I actually felt woozy. Observe.

Unlike the previous two games' basic mission structutes, TBOGT throws you into mega gauntlets, with missions involving stealing helicopters and subway cars, blowing up cranes and airplanes, and parachuting onto boats then racing them to cars and then racing those to the finish line. This style of insanity leads back to the days of San Andreas where I'd lethargically gel on the couch while dicking around with choppers. And once you beat the game, you can go back and replay them individually if that tickles your pickle. Although the game doesn't adorn you with jet-packs and multiple safe houses, TBOGT leads the charge in what GTAIV was meant to be: fucking fantastic. With more memorable characters, the epic return of Brucie, and an otherwise lighter story tone, this one takes the cake. The GAY cake! Ha Ha! Actually, the title itself is pretty misleading, as there's more straight shooting in this game, with one scene of Luis banging out some broad on the club's bathroom sink. Schwing!

In the end, Episodes From Liberty City offers a grand amount of game for a smaller chunk of price than most new games out there. Not only were they tailored better to the new GTA gameplay structure, but they were remarkably more forgiving in nature, as I never, ever had to tap in cheat codes. If a cheaper price and better gameplay aren't enough, both stories have the entire city unlocked from the get-go (a series first). And the in-game TV is greater than ever, with new episodes of History of Liberty City and Republican Space Rangers (which is FUCKING HILARIOUS), and a new show spoofing anime called Princess Robot Bubblegum (which is ALSO FUCKING HILARIOUS). The radio is pretty decent, and the disc-exclusive channel Vice City Radio (with Fernando Martinez!!! Emoticon!) is a great callback to the 80's.

One thing I should probably point out is that Episodes is only on the Xbox 360, thanks to some contractual mumbo-bullshit between Microsoft and Rockstar. So you PS3 owners are pretty much effed in the A. The only other downside I can really even think of is that I really, really should've beaten GTAIV. Which I may go do. Not now, though. I'm beat.

For your health,

-C.

Night at the Movies.

A month ago, I prattled on about movies coming out on DVD. Since then, most of them have become decorations on my movie shelf. All were enjoyable in their own way, but to be fair they need some scrutinizing. That's where the blog comes in. I'd go to Facebook and write a "note," but their blog program sucks. I'd go back to Myspace where these rants gestated, but seriously, who still uses Myspace that doesn't do drugs or continues to be fictional friends with Selena Gomez? That's why I like you, Blogger; you can be placed anywhere and you kinda-sorta work to my favor. Anyway, let's talk movies. Or write.

G.I. Joe takes the best parts of what makes the Transformers flicks sell and combines it with regular people doing crazy stunts. Not to dwell too far into the plot, but most of it pertains to the plight of sexual frustration between the Joe's Dudley Doright, Duke, and pretty much half the reason to watch this, Baroness. I mentioned that it also has a Wayans brother not compromised by prosthetics or CGI, and I have to admit Marlon does a decent job playing a semi-serious role (although he spends most of his time trying to pry off Scarlett's skintights). But there are some problems, like why is Destro Irish, why does Cobra Commander act like a wacky mad scientist, and why does Snake Eyes look kinda doofy? These are never answered, and of course it's all about the bad guys and good guys fighting over an item that will destroy the world with crazy chase and fight scenes. To purists of the franchise, this could potentially kill your love for all things Joe. For newcomers or those with hazy memories (I fall into the latter), it's dumb fun.

Pixar's latest venture, Up, is neither its best nor its worst. It's the story of Carl Fredricksen, whose life is summed up in the first ten minute of the movie (ending with a huge BAWWWWW factor I didn't even see coming). Now a curmudgeon, he decides that instead of settling for living in a retirement home, he'll jerry-rig his house to fly where he promised to go and explore years ago. He accidentally obtains a buddy, a wilderness scout named Russell, who tests the old fart's patience when he befriends a bird named Kevin and the epic talking dog, Dug.

Up takes the dramatic storytelling of its previous entry, WALL-E, and kicks it up times ten. While it's still an incredible film, it detaches further from seeming like a kid's flick and more of a experiment of American animation telling a properly serious story. This could appeal to some people that got burned out on dreck like Monsters, Inc. or Cars, but I'm glad to see that Pixar will be playing it safe with its next film, Toy Story 3. And if you don't like Toy Story, well, fuck you.

Bruno (umlaut excluded because I don't know any better) is the third and final entry in Sacha Baron Cohen's trifecta of Ali G Show movies. Bruno is the eccentric, uber-gay fashion show guru that would crash said shows with insane suggestions and believeable interviews. In fact, I felt that Bruno was the tamest of the three Ali G characters because he never provoked much skepticism or hatred from his prey, at least when compared to the retarded gangster Ali G and the hopelessly foreign Borat Sagdiyev.

...boy was I in for a goddamn surprise.

Bruno does something that the previous movie, Borat, didn't - Baron Cohen smartly take the character out of the familiar territory of the TV show and does something different. In this case, it's Bruno's quest to become a world-famous celebrity. He tries to start charities, finalize world peace, adopt a foreign child, and even a stint at becoming straight, all the meanwhile patchworking a story amid the pranks. Bruno wasn't as much hilarious as it was "oh goddamn, what's going to happen when he does THIS?!" And I should probably forewarn any potential watchers: this movie is GAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY. Not random naked dude in Jackass gay, or award-winning Sean Penn biopic gay, I mean helicoptering close-up dicks gay. So if you like your movies un-gay, or cannot handle crazy flaming jokes, or got really bother by the wrestling scene in Borat, this isn't for you. At all. Sure, there are some tits in the movie too, but that won't save you. The ending might, as it mocks the audience NOT intended for Bruno. I was pretty amused by it all.

For not being a Trekkie or a Trekker or a Trekbrohan, I quite enjoyed J.J. Abrams Star Trek. It's not going to make me a fan of the series, as I know better, but as a standalone film it's actually quite good. All I needed to know were the original characters, and I had that covered... thanks, Futurama! I can't say much more, as this movie acts as more of a series of winks to the true fans of Star Trek, but I could catch on to the various catchphrases tossed out by the crew of the S.S. Entreprise. It's also kinda fun to see 1/2 of Harold and Kumar as Sulu, The guy from Spaced as Scotty, and Zoe Saldana is pretty hot. Spoiler alert: Kirk humps a green chick. Bonus.

I'm going to leave the reviews at that. For your health.

-C.

Compulsory Review: Tekken 6 Is Okay.

Oh great, another goddamned game review. Let's read along with Marshall Law.

Let it be known that I've done plenty of video game scrapping over the years, and the Tekken series is no unknown name within the playlist. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that Tekken is my favorite 3D fighting series. It offers the same experience that titles like Virtua Fighter throw out without the hassle of needing to be an expert at it. In layman's terms, it's a pretty barebone game. Having gotten my kick out of the series since number 3, one might say I've been there, done that.


So what makes Tekken 6 so different from its previous counterparts? Everything and nothing, if one wants to get into the nitty gritty. Essentially, it's the same game as Tekken 5, which had the largest and arguably best cast of characters to date (then-newcomers Asuka, Raven and Feng Wei are still fairly fun to play), as well as an unnecessary beat-em-up Tekken Force mode, a convoluted ranking system in Arcade mode, customizable characters, and bonus arcade versions of Tekkens 1-3. What makes 6 different is additions to the roster, no bonus games, and a really nasty surprise.


I think 6 is where the series kind of gave up on new and interesting characters. There's Miguel the Spanish playboy, Zafina the Middle Eastern lady, Bob the lardass, and Leo the androgynous lady boy. There's also Lars, a Scandinavian bastard child of old boss Heihachi Mishima (what'll they think of next...) and Alisa Boskonovitch, a Pinnochio-esque robot chick, both whom look like they were puked out of a Final Fantasy character creator, and stars of the unloveable Tekken Force game. Unlike the last few games' new characters, these guys feel less spectacular and awkwardly shoehorned into the already bizzare storyline.


I mention the Tekken Force game only because unlike its last appearances in the series, this time you'll find yourself playing it. Not because it's fun and offers a great story, but because it's the key to unlocking ALL the fighters for the game's Arena, or story mode. As Lars (or any character you happen to unlock along the way), you trudge through level after level seeking revenge or something on the Mishima Zaibatsu. Each level flows in a linear, uninspired obstacle course of generic soldiers, bodyguards, and big ass robots until you get to the boss, usually a Tekken character who is then unlocked when you whoop them. This continues on and on until the end, and even then you have to do some spectacular bullshit to unlock all the fighters. This wouldn't be so bad IF Tekken Force was playable. The controls are lanky and frustrating (particularly moving around in the vicinity of enemies), the enemy lock-on sucks large quantities of balls, and 2/3rds through the game the boss fights become vicious and just unfun. You do get some aid in the form of an AI-controlled Alisa and occasional weapons, but the fact I cannot figure out how to unlock my aim on enemies so I can run and pick up health items ultimately kills any fun. Not that Tekken Force was EVER a fun part of the series, but this time it's almost unavoidable.


Thankfully, Tekken Force is about the only thing wrong with Tekken 6, as the actual fighting game is just as hunky dorey as it's ever been. Arcade Mode returns with the same ranking system as last time. Survival and Team Attack rear their heads. Story mode is almost as good as it ever was if it weren't for... grr... Tekken Focce. What threw me off was how the graphics don't seem to be as big an upgrade from last time, and this is considering that this is the first Tekken on the new generation of consoles. But maybe it's my 360, and maybe the PS3 version is radder since Tekken has always been a Sony system loyalist. In any case, the game IS pretty and characters like Christie Montiero are just as fappable as they ever were. I guess.


I spent the extra bones (slightly regrettably, now) to pick up the collector's edition of Tekken 6. What made this stand out was it came in a huge fucking box housing the game as well as a hardcover art book and a Hori arcade joystick. After the fiasco with my Madcatz SFIV joystick earlier this year, it was a gamble I was reluctant but able to make. Fortunately, the joystick works just fine. Unfortunately, it doesn't make Tekken Force any better to play. I would only reccomend the collector's edition if one doesn't have an arcade stick for fighting games, or if you have a boner for Tekken. I fell under both.


Regardless of collector's edition, Tekken 6 is worth checking out if you've played previous versions or need a fighting game that's not nearly as serious as Virtua Fighter or Soulcalibur. I mean, it has a Wesley Snipes ninja, a boxing kangaroo, insanely hot bitches, and no less than two bears. Why not? But if you're lacking the funds or patience to pick up a $60 Tekken 6, I'd suggest sticking with Tekken 5 on the PS2 for 1/3 of the price, or even the PSP version that is actually playable and fun.


For your health,


-C.