Log in

Previous 10

Nov. 21st, 2010


Its been a while...

And I doubt anyone out there is even still following this but...

I'm getting married in an hour and a half.

I can't even begin to sum up how nervous, scared, anxious, happy and excited I am right now.

Wish me the best, everyone out there who cares!!! ;)

Feb. 23rd, 2010


I am..

still alive.

That is all. 8P

Aug. 19th, 2009


The Snow never stays White in Manhattan : A Tale of Queen Elizabeth Slate of the Winter Court

Marble Hill, Manhattan, New York
Personal Residence of Elizabeth Slate
April 6th, 2008

It was an odd and somehow reassuring sight, he mused to himself as he was escorted by her personal guard. There, laying on her side sound asleep he could that there could be times she would be at ease, at peace. The book she had been reading lay open before her, and he couldn't help but stiffle a chuckle wondering if her royal majesty had been drooling into it as she slept. Bob Thebeault, oathborne to WinterCorp allowed himself at the very least a smile. For all her reputation among even those that owed her fealty of being a stone cold bitch and calculating manipulator, she still was quite beautiful. Her pale white skin reminded him of freshly fallen snow, held up by the strong and sharp spines of pine tree branches, much like the brown and green silk robe she wore even now. He turned to one of her personal guards;

"Maybe this isn't the best time. She does look very tired."
"Perhaps. But her request was clear; to bring you before her as soon as you had news from your organization."
"... Well um.. should I awake her then?"

She stirred slightly in her spot, her back arching and clicking slightly. The room suddenly became slightly cooler as her eyes open, the bright blue sapphires of her eyes meeting those of the mortal oathborne before her.

"That will not be necessary, Mr. Thebeault. Gentlemen, you may leave us. Go, find my ward and bring him to us." The guards bowed their heads and departed. Thebeault took a knee and respectfully bowed his head before the Winter Queen until such time as she bid him to rise.

"Your grace. I have come before you with an official report from your humble servants, WinterCorp." Said Mr. Thebeault. She sighed, tightening the belt on her robe she walked closer to her balcony window, looking out across the river into the Bronx.
"I am assuming then that Mr. Rose is now aware of the plan that is now in progress between the Duchess Southbreeze and myself?"
"Of course, your Grace." He said. Opening his file folder, he began produced a single yellow manila folder; "We are already reading Two squads of PMC Light Assault Squads to assist. They will be assembled and fully briefed within the next two weeks. They will be instructed to be as abrasive as possible to whomever they are assigned to support to attract attention away from any responsibility of any outside parties. If they are successful, it should be more than apparant that the PMC's are directly responsible for both the elimination of the hostiles you have designated. We have located an artifact in their possession which should draw out the 'other parties' attention. Strategic analysis shows an eighty two perce..." The Winter Queen rolled her eyes before shutting them tightly rubbing her forehead. Figures. Percentages. This was the last thing she wanted.
"Plain english, Mr. Thebeault. The plan between Southbreeze and myself does not need to be re-explained to me. I am the one who designed it in the first place. Do the people under Mr. Rose's employ believe this to be sufficent in drawing out the Changers of Central Park into the heart of the Goblins Lair?" Bob cleared his throat. Less figures. More ettiquite. Kill any possiblity of pretense, he thought to himself.
"Its likely the logical course of action. Your plan is, in a few words my Queen, Ambitious and Efficent."
"Mmm, risky isn't on your list, Mr. Thebeault?"
"Far be it for me, your Grace, to point out the obvious to you. All the same, either results of this plan still far outweigh the enevitable consequence of all Courts marching to War. The only question that concerns my employers is in allowing the Duchess to manipulate her own Court into choosing a motley to be put into direct harms way."
"I have my own reasons for this, Mr. Thebeault. I need not speak of those now."
"My employer still needs something, M'lady. If this plan is successful, they will be directly implicated into the coming conflict. Mr. Rose's concern is in your allowing another political faction to decide what motley is to be risked as a.. well for no better phrasing, sacrificial lambs to the slaughter. He had asked me to remind you that our support was based on the exchange of information like this." The Winter Queen allowed herself a snarl, while gently placing her marker in the book she had been reading earlier before pushing it into the hands of the Oathborne. With a low, impatient voice she closed Bob’s fingers around the volume, he breathed in sharply as the freezing cold of her fingers bit into flesh like a sudden November cold-snap.
"Don't think I have forgotten everything that your good and .. kind Master has done for this court." She hissed, breathing in deeply as the room began to freeze around them taking a very small pleasure in watching the worm of a man before her stutter and shiver before her. "Your master needs an answer. Take this book to him exactly as it is. I know he will understand."

The guards suddenly at his side glaring down at him, his cheeks now rosy red in both humility and coldness, he bowed graciously, turned and allowed himself to be escorted from the Queens chamber. Glancing once inside the book, which he now recognized at the Art of War by Sun Tsu, he noticed the phrase that the Queen had spoken of. Confusion crept into his mind like a thief, stealing what sense he had made of the meeting;

"If you know the enemy and know yourself, your victory will not stand in doubt; if you know Heaven and know Earth, you may make your victory complete."

Bay Ridge Station, 95th Street, Manhattan New York
August 9th, 1977

Stone. The Retriever was made of stone. Under the cloth of its denim jacket, hood and jeans even the places where there should have been soft tissue were nothing but cold, solid stone with only a very few hidden cracks between the edges of rock and stone that hid what little human was left of the retriever. And now all that stood between it and its prize was Malcolm, herself and one of those damned 'knights' of the Ordre de l'Azuredge, the one known as Escarabajo. Their firearms were useless, and their blades had to be fast and acurate to have any hope of harming it. Their last attack had failed, felling another Knight by the name of Rashaka to the ground. He was still breathing but he was out cold.

Slowly the three of them circled the retriever. The burlap back over its shoulder struggling, kicking and screaming. Lizzy couldn't blame the kid. She would be screaming more if she knew what was going to happen next. The book, "The Hymnal of Ages only Dreamed Of", lay at the retrievers feet. She calculated her steps very carefully, keeping her sword leveled at the retriever.

"Senorita.. tu halba espanol?" The large rapier wielding cockroach muttered out from behind the retriever, his sword unsheathed and gleaming like the pale blue of a flame hotter than that from any burning wood. She shook her head.
"Don't talk, Bug-boy. We had this under control until you got here." He shrugged slightly... then suddently reared back and leapt upon the retrievers back, grappling with one arm around its neck while trying to stab it in the back with his sword. The creature shook and roared, sounding like a mountain collapsing it on itself as it tried to shake the Knight from his flank. Lizzy saw her opportunity. Sprinting suddenly towards the creature, she slid between its legs at the last minute, barely avoiding a blow from its massive stone hands. She could hear the sound of the tiled floor cracking behind her with the impact. No time to fear what might have happened, she thought. With a cry of anger, she slammed the blade of the knife into the back of the creatures knee, finding a crack in the stone. The creature screamed louder this time, like a beast of the wilderness being wounded by a small scavenger. It shook and thrashed, throwing the knight down upon them both. She barely had time to register the sudden close contact with the bug-man when they were both viciously kicked across the floor, being lifted by the impact and thrown by the kick some distance away from the retriever. She felt a snap in her left side as two of ribs broke like twigs. Her mind had barely begun to register the pain when she saw her companion, Malcolm the Rat rush the retriever head on. The sharp edge of his machete found no flesh though, and as the sparks flew off the point of impact Malcolm was rewarded only with a solid, straight right punch to the chest and followed up with vicious left backhand that dropped him like a sack of wet meat.

The Cockroach was on his 'feet' (or whatever you might call them, though they were clad in boots) with sword back in hand. With that strange chittering howl of his, he charged the retriever again, slashing at it ferociously while it swung at him and grabbed at him in anger. As unclean as the 'knight' was she was amazed at how fast he was moving. Even so, she knew it was only a matter of time before the Retriever would land an attack that could very well kill the bug-man.

"La niña!!!" He screamed out, barely ducking from one of its attacks while slashing at its waist and groin. "Save the little girl, hembra estúpida!! I can't do this forever"

Her mind cleared past the pain of her injuries. She shook the haze from her eyes and saw what he was speaking of. The burlap sack containing a fourteen year old runaway busker lay struggling on the ground, discarded temporarily by the retriever. She kicked and screamed. She could see the outline of small fingers desperately attempting to tear and rip at the inside of the bag. Small trails of blood began to seep through, traces left by those fingers who had nails torn off in desperation.

And beside the child, the book that started it all. "The Hymnal of Ages only Dreamed Of." The Tome dictated by the True Fae themselves. Songs that would speak of times to come; be they weeks, days, years, centuries. Their very words a siren song to those beings; an acknowledgement to the monsters beyond the Hedge that would come to enslave, or re-enslave.

The choice was very simple.

She broke into a sprint, dropping into a roll as the Retriever swung its giant stone fists at her. Above her, rock and granite in the shape of an open palm slap whooshed. Bringing herself to her feet, she took the book in hand, and dodged away as the Retriever finally landed a single blow on the Bug-Man. He cried out in pain as once again he was hurled meters away, smashing and splintering the tile on the side of the wall he was thrown into. The creature roared as it stepped towards her.

Only one shot at this, she thought. She flicked out the zippo lighter from her leather jacket pocket, igniting the flame and holding it close to the book. The Creature stopped. It growled lowly as the impudent Lost held its second most important prize before her. It barked something at her in a language lost to the ages that roughly translated into something about a day returning that she would remember the cold place again one day.

It seized the child, who began screaming again; this time screaming for someone named Frankie. It threw the burlap sack roughly over its shoulder, and disappeared.

She finally breathed.. dropped to her knees in relief, and grief. The book was once again out of their hands, at the cost of one more taken as a price for its beauty. She pulled a Marlborough Slim out of her jacket pocket and lit it up. The Bug-Man across from her finally pushed himself to his feet. He made an odd gasping sound as he dropped to one knee and retrieved his blue-bladed rapier.

“Tu… tu hembria.. You cold.. BITCH!!” He gasped out. “You could have saved her.. you.. you gave that girl to THEM.. HOW COULD YOU…”
“Save it, bug-man.” She grunted out as she pulled herself to her feet, limping towards Malcolm the Rat. Not much time she thought to herself. In a few minutes this place would be crawling with NYPD, and Queen Deseree the Ruby-Teared was still trying to figure out exactly who they were working for. No pulse. The break in his neck was clean. Time to move, she though. She closed his eyes and quickly muttered an goodbye before turning to try to drag herself out the station before the cops showed up.

“You COULD HAVE SAVED HER!!” The Bug-Man shouted again.
“No, Escarabajo. We couldn’t have. Even if we had, he would have still had the book, which means he would have come back again.”
“You gave her up.. you gave UP on her.. FOR THAT???”
“No. Not for this.” She said still walking away. She felt the Knights eyes burn holes in the back of her head as she limped away. She didn’t care. Not for his morals. Not for his feelings. She didn’t have room for it. The little emotion she allowed herself for the moment lay hidden in her cigarette and her pain; the smallest amount of hope that somehow, sometime that child would find the strength to escape. Even if it was to a place as shitty as New York.

WinterCorp West Headquarters,
The personal office of current CEO Marcus Rose
Yorkville, Manhattan,
April 15th, 2008

The Wine was labeled as a red, but its color seemed almost as black as the night sky as she held it to the light by the window overlooking Central Park. Chateau Margeax, 1995. If there was any advantage that Marcus’s disability gave him, it was a fine taste of things one needed more than eyes to see. She sipped it quietly as she heard Marcus and his assistance walking down the hall towards her. Gazing at Central Park, she allowed herself a moment of forethought; the briefest consideration of what was to come. Regardless of what it purchased, any blood seemed too high a cost, even with the position she had now. Even yet, if it was the blood of those she could never relate to, barely understand. But Marcus had not advised her ill during all their years together. She turned to look at him. So odd she though. Even with the Wyrd bound into his flesh and blood like herself, he was starting to show his age more like a human. It was sad; chances are he may have only a few decades left, save if there was an accident or worse yet an attempt on his life.

“I can smell your concern from over here, my dear Queen.” He said with a smile, his pale white eyes a contrast to the dark mahogany bookcases and furnishings of his personal keep. His assistant left his side and departed for the elevator with the security detail. She allowed herself a smile; blind as he may have been, she knew somehow he would know. He always did.

“You’re an old friend Marcus. I am allowed to worry about my friends.”
“Ha ha! My good lady, Royalty you may be, head of my court and first among my friends this I will not allow you to do. Clearly you need more wine.”
She allowed herself a laugh. So this was how it was going to go tonight. “This glass alone is worth more than some made for an entire weeks labour here. Its absolutely amazing.”
“That? Pyshaw, my queen. It’s the least I can do. Besides we do have serious business to attend to.”
“Of course.”

They began to walk down the hall through the Armory towards the Archives. The many ancient swords, muskets and old suits of earthly and not-so-earthly armor .

A Few Hours Later….

“Your certain she will be the one Southbreeze will choose?” The Winter Queen said, as her good friend poured another glass of wine, the twilight shaded liquid sliding into the glass like the moment the sun disappears beyond the horizon. Marcus nodded solemnly;

“Everything points to it. The quiet interception of our attempts to purchase controlling interest in good Mr. Melnyks ‘acquisition’. Tapping the dishonored remaining Knight of the L’order D’Argentedge to protect her, get close to her. Making a deal with that one Goblin we discovered on Wall Street that can cut deals to adjust who does what when the games roll into town. Her recent purchase through a proxy with the St. Marks Goblin Market of Kingsblossum. She is going to breed her into a replacement. The only question is why?”
“Even to me it’s less than obvious, Marcus.” She said, relaxing a bit into her chair. “There are too many things that don’t make sense.”
“It could be argued that with the recent issues in her court that she is looking for someone new to take over, take responsibility of those issues.”
“Hmm. Perhaps. It wouldn’t be the first time she has made a mess and dumped it on some other naïve Lost to clean it up for her. But it can’t be that. Southbreeze would know her replacement will need time to be trained and taught. She would need the support of the rest of her Court..”
“Which she only has enough to be tolerated, bearing in mind her Motleys other members. I agree. There has to be another reason.” Marcus sighed, rubbing his temples with both thumbs. “I have been looking for the signs for weeks, reading anything I can find that would be able to make sense of it. “

The Queen stood and paced about in the Archives, the gigantic shelves and cabinets filled with books collected from around North America and Europe, and even a few rare Goblin Tomes locked under three layers of transparent Kevlar laced plexiglas. She ran her hand around the corners of the case "The Hymnal of Ages only Dreamed Of". She felt a slight twinge in her side, remembering the day so clearly, and what it had cost to get the Volume to the Fledgeling Changeling Corporation back so long ago. Marcus spoke on in the distance;

“The Wall Street Journal. The New Yorker. NYC Night Life publications. Hell, even the recent Liberal free-press rags you can get for free from those homeless people that my men sometimes bring me show nothing. Nothing at all. But my instincts tell me there is more to this. And I can’t help but search.”
“Marcus, your profit margins are suffering because of this. I know you want to help, but at the same time, the December Group needs your focus on keeping WinterCorp functionable. We both know the recession that’s coming, and the cash your going to need to maintain all of this security for this… collection of yours.” Marcus nodded solemnly.
“Very well. But remember what has been told to you today, my Queen. All the signs point to something very bad happening to at least two of the noble courts.” She shivered slightly, for once allowing herself to find no comfort in the cold.
“What was it that the puzzle said? ‘Blood of the Noble shall shall rise as a sign…’
“ ‘… and with the sign shall follow the hounds.’ The Hounds are easily interpreted. But which Noble? Until we are certain it is you, I would like to again suggest that you leave the city.”
“I might as well be abdicating my throne to Shodehren if I do that.…”
“You may be actually sentencing him to death, nevertheless in the grand scheme of things ..”
“Marcus, its not an option. I’m not going anywhere. If it is to be that die here and now at the hands of the True Fae by the machinations of Fate then I will do so knowing I did what I could to protect who I could with my last breath.” Marcus sighed.
“My Queen, martyrdom has never been becoming of you. I doubt it ever will.” She smiled, placing her half empty glass on an empty spot on the bookshelf;

“I wouldn’t consider it Martyrdom. I would consider it victory with no doubt.”

Jun. 4th, 2009


(no subject)

First, a brief history of the game in question:

Bionic Commando was originally released for the NES system around 1988. For those of us old enough to remember old school 8-bit gaming, this is kind of a misty eyed time for us. Games were simple, required a bit more creativity and purpose in design than just move mouse pointer towards the person you want to kill, click the mouse and yell BOOOOOM HEADSHOT YEAAAHHHH. This also meant that the really good ones were difficult. And I don't mean difficult as in 'Oh jeez I died again, time to just try again a few more times until I get it. No no. I mean difficult as in 'Sweet Christ no. No no no no not again. I KNOW I CAN DO THIS!!! PLEASE GOD PLEASE JUST GIVE ME THE SKILLS!!!"

Apart from Battletoads and the Ninja Gaiden series, Bionic Commando stands as one of the most difficult original 8 bit classics, not because of the code or game play was just so horrible (because it really, really wasnt...) it was because the game was just that damn good.

I guess it stands to reason that since lately everything good from the past has been getting a remake, it was only a matter of time before old school 8 Bit fans had a bone thrown to them with a recent console true sequel to the original.


Nathan Spencer is the original Commando from the 8 Bit Classic, a war veteran who lost his left arm as the result of injuries sustained in Battle. He is then offered an opportunity to volunteer for a seekret government project to take soldiers apparently too gibbled from being able to serve in active duty and to make them.. BIONIC... which he of course accepts. Because seriously, who wants to be disabled anyways??

(Just to be clear, that was sarcasm. I could go into details about themes of disability and how we treat/percive/portray them in this game but thats a really long and involved discussion which I really couldn't even begin to do intellegently. My good friend Trouble In China on the other hand might have a few interesting things to say on the subject, but I am not certain if she has ever played this, or could be convinced to sound off on some of the themes the game brings up. For now I just wanna talk about the game itself.)

Okay you know what? Hell with the story. I could complain about how weak it really is even if it does weave some of the original plotline from an 8 Bit Classic, its a minor complaint for me that I won't bother to address any further than in Caveman.


That basically sums it up. Oh and there are semi-nazi's like in the original. And a missing wife that he's trying to find. Oh and some ex-squadmate of his with cyborged up superhot chicky legs has the hots for him regardless. OH and his best buddy in the world from all the way back in the day is a dick now.



How does it play? Pretty damn sweet is how it plays. While the playstyle doesn't lend well to a lot of 3rd person run and gun'er's out there hopped up on Gears of War or GTA, this was never supposed to feel like that in the first place. This game requires you to keep moving. Stationary + Your Ass = Death. And when you do move, its pretty damn sweet. Swinging from ledge to ledge, pillar to pillar, wall to wall, building to building; its like someone bitchslapped all the emo out of Spiderman, gave him a fuck-load of guns and told him FASTER PUSSYCAT KILL KILL KIIIIIIIILLLL..

The swinging is smooth, the interactivity between your environment and your gigantic ass robotic arm is sweet, allowing both some very nifty looking evasive acrobatics as well as agonizingly frustrating moments of getting from point a to point b because you miss that one swing by just.. that.. much.

The combat is pretty simple, giving you a handful of pretty standard weapons and combat manuvers that make use of the arm in either pretty per-par action moves that you would expect from a game like this. The enemies may not be too bright, but they do work well together. Wise is the man who plays this game and has effective hit and run techniques. You might feel like odd Hybrid between Tarzan and Rambo, but you still don't feel immortal.

Overall, its only really got one serious weakness in terms of gameplay; Its terribly Linear. Like I said before, its from point a to point b. There might be a million ways from sunday you can make the journey but its still basically one level to the next, which is somewhat a shame considering the very large and awe-inspiring scope of each level. Technically speaking, even the original 8-Bit game was somewhat more open ended and open world, as you still had the option of exactly what level you went to. It feels like the design team couldn't be bothered to figure out exactly how every neat concept they had for levels and environments could all be tied together, or just didn't have an engine that could process a world with the amount of detail and flexibility of movement that would be open ended. It could be interpretted as a shame, because the game could use a lot of that sense of open-world flexiblity that we see in a lot of games like inFamous or GTA or the like. On the otherhand, it could be intended to feel more like an 8-bitter going from level to level. Simple, point by point, and requiring that the player overcome challeges without skipping out on the hard ones to move forward.


Thats my head. Douchebag. And it looks pretty good! The game, that is. Not my head. But my head looks good too. STOP CONFUSING ME.

The graphics are pretty good; on my new 1080p beauty of a TV the framerate is nice and smooth, the transitions are pretty natural looking, and the art style is pretty standard of what you'd expect from a J-style action/shooter. The lighting and shading can sometimes fall a bit flat, however and the facial details are pretty .. well.. um.. cro-magnon at times.

The game really shines in its sound, however. From its sweeping epic re-mastering of the original theme to the nice little kerchunk sounds the arm makes as you swing from place to place. Its very well done.

In relation to the sound, however there was one interesting point of contention I had with the game; I want to mention that the game does have a bit of a sly sense of humor from time to time. In fact, sometime its not so sly.. for example, some actual in game dialog;

Big Boss: HA HA!! Jah, mista Spencah suun you vill be destroyed by zah mighty..



The writers for the game must have realized halfway through the production that their working plot was just ludacris, so if this is the case why bother to take the actual scripted dialog too seriously? And why not? Even the original game had its momemts of corny humor with the dialog between bad guys. All this aside, some of it really could have been toned down a bit.

While the violence in the game can get kinda painful looking sometimes, it doesn't really even go balls to the wall with blood or gore. Nevertheless for bad language alone the game earned itself a M for mature rating for the amount of F-Bombs Spencer drops while whooping ass. Far fuckin be it from me to complain about bad language, but with the rest of the content of the game, if they had just washed the big-dreadlocked jackasses mouth out with some soap before they had started scripting him in-game, they probably could have kept the game T for Teen and opened it up to a bit wider of an audience. On the other hand, its not likely most kids between the ages of 12-17 would be able to appreciate the nostalgia factor of the game. So fuck em, keep the foul language. I can play it, why the fuck would I care if your 13 year old brother has to ask mommy if he can or can't? He can kiss my gigantic bionically enhanced ass.


As a matter of fact I am. Its not a bad little game. It may get repetative for some, but for those of us old enough to remember the original it will make you feel all warm and gooey inside while you grab bad guys by the face and throw them about a mile and a half away from you. It has its flaws all the same, so unless you are a hardcore fan I won't call foul on you if you pull this out of a pre-played bin anytime soon.

I can't wait for the sequel. :)

May. 10th, 2009




This happened on the street that we moved away from not more than a week ago.


Apr. 2nd, 2009


Crash = Big Sap

I found this video on Youtube.. made me thing of Mousy and me years ago when we first started dating;

Mar. 24th, 2009


some lawls

Mar. 20th, 2009


Conso-Lent : Day Fuck-it + The Maximus Reviews Killzone 2

Fuck it. Conso-lent has failed. I am weak. But the advantage to you? It means I get to do new reviews for you guys! WIN... sort of.

Today I want to talk about the lastest big PS3 release, Killzone 2.

So lets talk about this game a little big. I am going into this right off the bat by saying that the majority of my time, the large shiny black lump of mostly fail called my PS3 has never been my console of choice. Its not a bad system but I have always preferred my XB360 over the two of them. And as far as I can tell, most gamers out there feel the same why. Its why when you hear the words "PS3 Exclusive" before any title that sounds even remotely interesting a typical gamers first gut reaction is going to be "Pfft. FAIL." Unless its something absolutely epic, such as Little Big Planet or Metal Gear Solid 4. This was even true back in the day when the original Xbox was competing against the PS2.

Sony wanted to find a good FPS title back in the day that could actually compete against Halo and Halo 2. Back in 2004, they figured a little known publisher called Guerrilla Games could put out what they would call a "Halo Killer" in Killzone. Unfortunately, the original game for PS2 met with mixed review and eventually faded into obscurity. To be fair though, those who did like the original Killzone liked it a lot, and it did have a few interesting things going for it.

Five years later and a few misleading E3 trailers later, they finally released part 2 for the PS3. Of course, evey 360 fanboy who had a chance to get their hands on it would decry it and call it lame. And even my gut instinct to follow suit was hard to resist. But the more and more positive reviews I read about it, the curiouser and curiouser I got. I had to check this shit out. Here is what I found;

Preste atención, tontos! Máximo Crashus dirá ahora que lo hizo con la guerrilla Juegos pendientes excelencia con Killzone 2!

I remember looking back a few years ago at the trailer for Killzone 2 for E3 thinking to myself "There is no goddamn way that is anything BUT pre-rendered." And as it turned out, I was right it was. Nevertheless, as fake as the original preview might have been years ago I can admit that graphically that in all honesty I haven't seen an FPS as pretty as this in a very long time. I think of the good ones I have played in the past like Halo 3 or Call of Duty: World at War and the like and this beats them all hands down in the prettiness. Texture maps are well done. Lighting and shadow is realistic and responsive. And the little details that are added for flavour really do give you a sense of immersion that really sets the stage well; everything from the slight blur as you are hit, making a sharp turn or recovering from a grenade going off just barely far enough away to shake you up a bit. The character models are sometimes a bit slow to act accordingly to their surroundings, however the art style for the game is quite well done for the setting. While some might be used to blowing holes in plasma swording aliens, space bugs or space zombies, the bad guys in Killzone have a very nifty neo-fascist fashion sense that makes them both more intimidating and distinctive from a lot of other standard FPS baddies.

The control.. well see thats a point of contention. A lot of multiplayer goons and snyde ass critics claim the controls for both single player and multiplayer are sluggish, slow to manuever and unresponsive. I agree to a certain point; they are somewhat sluggish and slow, and manuevering is a bit of a challenge sometimes. On the other hand, what most FPS players and critics don't realize is that even actual trained soldiers can't leap and bound over cars, expertly pivot into corners at a full sprint or drop into a headshot worthy snipe while shooting from the hip. The game feels like what Call of Duty SHOULD have felt like. The controls remind you that you are not immortal, all powerful and jackrabbit ass jumping space commando; this game makes you feel like a grunt in a big ass, dusty, dirty, bloody firefight eight thousand times bigger than you. And maybe its just me, but that is AWESOME.

The multiplayer system has a great system of leveling up over time, unlocking weapons, player classes and bonuses that you can bring into the game at any time A-la Call of Duty 4 or World at War. Where it succeeds over COD is that its not just weapons or extra stuff to kill people with that gets unlocked over time. Its things like a medic class, or stealth sniper class, or engineer class. While the game doesn't really give you modifiable weapons, it really gives you the freedom over time to craft whatever kind of player in multi that you WANT to play. Very well done.

Ahora escuchar la Máximo! Él está a punto de decirle cómo Killzone 2 no! No se preocupe usted tonto sacerdote católico, que no será una larga lista!

Sound quality and mixing is excellent, however I think the music could have used a bit more work. Most of the time it sounded like some schmuck in his basement with a MIDI keyboard pounding out some kind of standard military-themed anthem from some long forgotten WWII game or movie that was discarded when they could get a REAL composer. Most of the time you barely have a chance to hear any music in the first place from everything that is happening around you from wind effects to ambient battle noise.

Also; while the game does give you a few levels that involve piloting vehicles such as tanks or mechs, these parts are very few and in-between. While they will make you feel like a bad-ass engine of death for three or four minutes, by the time they are done you will be hoping to god for another chance to repeat something like it but you typically won't. Not to mention, there is no option for vehicle combat or anything close to it in multiplayer. I can only hope that this is something that will be included in future patches.

The only other complaint I could make about this game is that the single player mission is somewhat short; anyone with any experience in FPS could probably finish it within 6-7 hours. And while the plot, story and dialog are passable I get the feeling that a lot more effort was put into just securing a really hellish ambiance. While the story might not be perfect, the setting mostly atones.

Otherwise? Seriously. All around wicked.

Prepárese para ser sorprendido, asombrado y asombrados! Ir a la tienda de licor y cerveza, comprar un sobreprecio en previsión de esta emocionante celebración! Maximus es el Crashus sexual viril tiene una salchicha y del tamaño de un pequeño pueblo!

If your looking for a good, solid FPS with an excellent multiplayer that engages you to play PLAY PLAY KEEP KILLING FASTER PUSSYCAT KILL KILL KILLLLLLLLL then I highly recommend this game. It is an oasis of win in a desert of PS3 exclusive failure.

Mar. 14th, 2009


The Best Birthday Present Ever?

What is it you ask?

I'll tell you what.. its something that I actually got for someone else. (Well, with some help from a good friend. :) )

It was a gold ring with some precious stones on it, and it wasn't meant for my finger.

About 2 Hours ago I proposed to my beloved Rabid Mouse. Amazingly enough, after two years of keeping my scraggly ass around with her, she said Yes.

She said yes!


This, this right here? This is a happy Crash.

:) :) :)

Mar. 5th, 2009


A letter from the Twins (Consol-Lent Day 9)

Dear Maximus:

Okay; first off what the fuck? I know we have been through some tough times between the three of us but cold shoulder? You can kiss my white ass, and you can kiss his black ass, mo fucka.

But you know what? We ain't angry. Nope. Not in the least. Why? Well maybe we could use the break too, you insignificant portly fuck. You work us like sleddogs. We barely got four hours to ourselves after the Fallout 3 Launch. And don't even START to talk about the GTA IV Marathons that ensued last spring break. Jackass.

You honestly think you can go 40 days without us??

Well I guess we will see. I mean..

Its not like your missing any decent FPS... oops; Forgot about Killzone 2. Well thats okay. Who needs FPS?

Your more of an RPG guy, we forgot... I .. oh but the Fallout 3 DLC comes out this month too.. huh.. oh dear.

Well its not like there isn't anything with any indie flavour I.. okay I lied. Your not actually missing Noby-Noby-Boy?? Are ya?? HA of course you are.

Well hell with that noise. I mean, you could always.. I dunno listen to more music?? .. Whats that Rock Band 2?? Nope.. sorry, you gather dust this month. Bawww...

But look on the bright side. Its just console gaming your giving up right? There is a ton of stuff out there brand spankin new for pc just waiting for you?

... Speaking of which, how IS that video card of yours handling? ... Whats that? Not so good? It freezes up when it tries to.. and you have to ..


oh you poor silly man.

Oh no you don't. Fuggya! You turned your back on us, not the other way around. Your officially on your own.

See you in 31 days, you bastard.


The Twins: PS3phone and the Noisy lil Whitey.

PS. Ran into WoW the other day. The cruel bitch says 'Hi' and if your ever in the neighborhood, sailor .. well you get the idea.

Previous 10