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.