(Yes this is awfully long, but please understand the topic is a sore spot that I simply couldn’t condense further. Oh, and there’s tons of rude words and a wank joke in this one to keep your interest.)
So Halo 3: ODST has dropped (yea, hilarious pun I know, thanks pal) into retail and taken up a defensive position behind that glass case of gaming curios at your local Gamestation in preparation for the flood (yea thanks again kid) of big Christmas titles.
What worries me, however, is the general vibe around it’s release. In what has turned into a relatively sparse Christmas period for huge titles, ODST’s release should stand as an event release of the season, with all the excitement, anticipation and even trepidation that brings.
I was looking forward to hearing people talk about the little secrets, curious little touches, bombastic set-pieces, hilarious glitches, and those little unexpected moments of emergent gameplay made possible by the Halo series’ undeniably first rate enemy AI.
What I see, however, is just another grand bitching session filled with wild accusations of reviewers being paid off perpetrated by the kind of pathetic reclusive who only serves to solidify the wider world’s view of gamers as quite simply: massive loser shit heads.
These chaps sit at home all day with their controller of choice lovingly crammed in their ass while their on screen manifestation repeatedly performs any action that produces a good strong rumble response.
They choke themselves with their charging cables as they mash their testicles into the disc tray/slot crying possibly delicious tears of unnatural love. Love not for games, not even for the developers of those games, but the soulless corporations that manufacture the boxes we play them on. Bastards.
These people have ruined the game for me. Since when has gaming been ALL about continuously professing your love for a fucking money making corporation and not about professing your love for that amazing bit where the Ghost that was bearing down on your soon to be squashed little soldier man exploded, thusly tearing itself apart and flying over your head at the last second as your final shot hit the exposed engine.
I can’t enjoy it without thinking I’m somehow part of this ridiculous wankfest which explains why, two missions in, I just can’t bring myself to play any more right now.
Maybe it’s my fault. Perhaps when I was younger, it was the same and I just never saw it. No internet meant my gaming literary enjoyment was limited to one or two magazines a month, and Gamesmaster was always a happy mess of colourful screenshots, handy tips and cheery letters about people who had been cured of cancer (probably).
No game is perfect and I’d love to converse with these people about the ups, downs, and possible improvements that could be made to the game, but I can’t as it will almost certainly boil down to an inane and nonsensical Sony V’s Microsoft argument.
I have not lost all hope for the industry however, the lovely Tim Schafer’s next title, Brutal Legend, is out very soon and is exactly the kind of game that will breed healthy discussion and generally “good times” for gamers.
Having spent some time with the demo I believe it will be truly fantastic, but I will be avoiding the internet until I finish it, just in case the 360 version has 8 more defs and a more stable framerate, in which case it’s all over.
Anyway, I’m off to give ODST another chance at seducing me, where’s that charging cable…
Tags: Halo, xbox 360, Halo 3: ODST, Halo 3, Tim Schafer, Fanboy
