Age of empires 2: is nostalgia poisoning the minds of yesterdays youth?

Age of empires two (aoe2) is a pit of nostalgia for many, hours spent researching heavy plough and doing the things that game otherwise has you do. Like many of you, i didn’t actually play it when i was a kid, sorry. Instead i had an imagination and an education that gave me the, using clever words synonym, I use today to acrticate my Edea’s. Incoherent gibberish aside lets jump into the review.

Age of empires, is a game like any other game. I've not really got a lot to say so i popped a quick question to a friend asking them what their childhood experiences of the game had been like in the full knowledge that they had not played it at that time either. This fellow was however an veteran of interviews: having quite recently being interviewed on a beach my a welsh man asking him about the now cancelled swansea tidal lagoon. The interview went as follows:



Halcyon indeed sweet hypothetical manchild. There is something of a victimhood at play here for the lost children. Those that never had more than terrestrial television to tide over our supple impressionable minds, the forlorn and lost who unable to grapple ourselves to our plain and uneventful pasts are forced to live in a tumultuous present, stripped of our rose tinted spectacles we wander the desert of the real baring down on all we see with incalculable cynicism from our half-formed under stimulated monkey minds.

Note that the fellows linguistic capabilities were improved when he was a version of himself who had played aoe2 as a child. Given this was the only variable at play here, it does make for rather compelling evidence that not playing aoe2 is a source of neurocognitive decline in the development of the child's mind. While the mechanic of such an causation can only be speculated upon, it wouldn’t be all too bold if i suggested that the game beams the historical and social textures of the civilisation directly onto their comparatively softer skulls, wherein lies the brains (sorry not every here played aoe2 as a child and i want us all to be on the same page)

I know some of you are very curious about the welsh man and how he plays into the discussion, well you see the welsh aren't a playable civilisation in aoe2. There is a very good explanation for that… they’re all a bunch of… misrepresented and stereotyped people who bare the eire of their anglican neighbours and by extension their former dominon’s. That fact you were anticipating a cheap jab the welsh on my part just goes to show how pervasive the attitude is, and what low expectations you hold for the man who named his chinese city Sumtingwong.

This however hits at something larger, i unfortunately can’t ignore this grand injustice lacking as i may the advanced fold in the front of my brain needed to understand the necessity of being prejudiced against oppressed peoples. A smarter fellow might be able to explain but alas i must thrash and writhe against a system built upon a assumptive mantle of my having played Aoe2.

The game is a real time strategy. Let's talk about that name for a moment. namely the aspect denoted as “real time” what does that mean? Well it references to things happening concurrently. Which to so some degree is true or rather it was true in 1999 but here in the scifi future with new marvels such as computers, the electric toothbrush or even the Loom (haha we had that one in 1999) Nostalgia is now a player on the board, not the in game board more the bored of this extended ramble about nostalgia board, that is you’re now thinking about bored board boredly in a broad but not like a sword especially one with a nord… word.

The key point here, so muddled in tangent it required a new paragraph to actually get around to it, which now is derailing itself with an aside about it’s own necessity…

Finishing a game of aoe2 can be difficult online because sometimes one person's connection ends up making lag for the rest due to the requirement of every player being connected to every other player. This is often a source of frustration for those of us that don’t pop a prepubescent boner at the sound of villagers chopping wood. A symbolic castration that inevitably turned all the super intelligent ubermensch the game spat out into multifetished perverts. Some i have spoken to have openly expressed and interest in non missionary sex, non procreative sex and extramarital sex; which, deceitfully, is nothing to do with having multiple wives.

Speaking of multiple, this games has multiple mounted units: It’s okay in my books.

Mgs5: No not that one.

Wetwork, to some it means taking a slash on your partner(s) to others it's a life a death struggle to keep the world safe from those that would seek to do ill. I write these lines, equally wet, as i sit stewing in my own sweat after a harsh mid morning jog on what might just be the muggest day in living memory. What connects these three seemingly tangential observations? Well the run was short and bit of a pisser, short i am and so is metal gear 5: ground zeroes which would be taking the piss for the asking price if i’d not got it as part of a larger bundle; That and all three are warm, wet and a bit of a teaser.

The real trick to stealth in the same as “good” writing; hmmm... perhaps something closer to “effective” would be a better term. The word “jackhammer” seemingly plucked at random for use as a non-sequitur might actually fit closer than the other two. Word choice aside i mean to be an exponent for the most effective form of infiltration known to man; in this the modern day: two thousand eighteen anno domini. As i wet my lips to put these words forward i feel the hands of the GCHQ poised to punched my name into a watchlist. My solution: making bomb threats!

Nothing is more effective as a source of fear and confusion than an explosion. Other than shipping anyone one on a watchlist off to guantanamo bay for a light afternoon session of listening the barbie girl while a set of cracking live jump leads become firm and fast friends with your perineum. See the risks i go to for a piece of journalistic excellence like this. PM: Floaty McMay boat wouldn’t hesitate to ignore the context surrounding my assertion if it meant she could send me hurtling over the white cliffs of dover, into a waiting CIA hydroplane, to make the immigration figures look any better for the army of closet racists that have become her new powerbase.

WHY? Why the hatred for the system BVGRONTI? (rolls of the tongue, not a work in progress) well the answer is simple really. At the beginning of the game while witnessing the treatment of the prisoners in the fictional analogue of guantanamo bay (where the game is set) we are serenaded with the song “here’s to you,” a song about anarchists being put to death for crimes many believe they didn’t commit. The people who decided the state was a bad thing and ought to be abolished were really pissy when the stated decided they were a bad thing and ought to be abolished.

A strain of martyrdom makes its way into anarchist writing, praising the complexity of the men pulled into the machine of government and those the hurl themselves in after. Like those valiant souls who's arm’s become lodged in vending machine when trying to snatch a packet of cheese and onion. I’ve not yet developed a taste for that form of political whiskey but it burns my throat all the same. So what you heard a song and now you’re foaming at the mouth? No it think it’s the bombs they put in that little girls chest. Isn’t that some hackpin metaphor for adolescence? Pretty sure it isn’t.

The main crux of my outrage is that the very method i used to distract guards throughout my time roaming the bay was turned against me in the final moments of the game. I’m pretty sure the game agrees with my initial assertion. The explosion is the great leveler; Equity of man and concrete are brought about before its shattering might. it was the tool of my elevation and hence too my collapse, just like the anarchist. Either hideo kojima is a masterful storyteller or i need to reign in my pyretic tendencies.

What about the girl that got blown up?

Good point! I rate this game: better than getting teeth lodged in your skull that make you forget how to speak russian but not really.

fallout 76 will have a battle royale mode!

Woke up this morning with a real feeling of punditry on the breeze, normally i wait till later in the week to knock out one of these bad boy’s much like my pre-bed shower game; which i will not, sigh of relief, be reviewing…this week. The smart move would have been to take my bank of cashiers checks, (my little white spurts) and sit myself down in front of the electronic entertainment expo for god knows how many hours, cranking out words with my hand while i simply sink into the cringe of it all. I know some who did, but they don’t have blogs, nor do they possess the sheer indifference to reason needed to spit one of these things out. I could ask what they thought but that might give me something to write about, ruining this paragraphs implication that all i have here is a steaming pile of wank.

After a friend send me a link to the preorder for fallout 76 power armour edition retailing for about 175 pound sterling i decided that a ounce of grandstanding is in order, nothing short of total smug can be invoked for the tidal wave of cosmic level miscreance on both his part and the part of the infamous satanic figure: todd howard, who will use the revenue from said collector’s edition to fuel his industrial scale psychic hive-mind of kidnapped children to driver us ever closer to an actual nuclear apocalypse.

Such charges ought not to go unsubstantiated. In print such words could be liable, but sueing is the last thing todd howard would do. In order to sue he’d have to prove to the judge that i was wrong and that were was no hivemind of kidnapped children locked away in the basement of bethesda studios right between fallout: new vegas 2 and the smouldering puss soaked remains of Brink (2011). All things big todd would never let see the light of day. Hence i feel we are at something of an impasse, these words alone can’t stop the apocalypse but maybe they might make BIG T lose some sleep in between re-releasing skyrims.

I’m beginning to wonder if the apocalypse would be that bad, for one thing it’s most certainly mean the end of my more powerful and popular rivals platform’s, i off course would survive unlike the ninety percent of people who would die in an actual apocalypse. I’m still too naive to consider my death a given certainty and as a result i approach nightmare scenarios like some brave new world being stripped of the shackles of conventional morality so i can made so called HARD CHOICES! But then the alternative is choosing between sweet corn brands; can anyone really blame me?

With all the meaningless speculative waffle this could be loosely compared to a kotaku article, if i had actually read any and not just heard about them through cultural osmosis. So let's get back to something more real. The friend i mentioned earlier, the one you might rightfully construed as an entirely fictitious element, undermining my proposition of returning to the real but which is in actual fact a person i know. Yeah? That one? Well he preordered the game, a preorder! Blatant blasphemy in internet circles. The dam thing was barely announced a week ago and has not been subject to the least critical appraisal, unless this counts, and already he has brought copy albeit not the ‘can’t pay rent now’ edition

So what exactly has he brought into, what is it people are buying when they pre-order. It’s really quite simple. Like a gold prospector staking their claim to some wasteland marsh my friend believes here be gold. He has purchased ownership, in an age of digital distribution where there is no scarcity, so all that’s left is ownership and even that’s watered down. A rather ironic paradigm for a fallout game in which everything is scarce and their really is no strong form of legal ownership, where preorders are replaced with not knowing where the next meal comes from. He Has brought ownership of a thing with certainty, wherein there is neither. If that doesn’t make your neck spin your joints aren't quite as flexible as my own but i’m firmly of the belief that you’re all trying.

Have i read the list of features they plan to put in the game? No! When a child draws their dream castle and puts the carmel pool right next to the man eating alligators one generally pays it little serious consideration. Until the child has achieved their masters in architecture that is. At which point i would do like to do nothing more than sit down with a brew and chat alligator logistics. You can tell a gator from a croc on the basis of whether it will see you in later or in a while. How i wish that joke was the product of my own mind, true envy lays therin.

Maybe that’s just it, this half cocked slapdash scrawl, just some cheap cash in on E3 an envy fuelled ride to gawk at those uncynical enough to put their money where their mouth is for things they unambiguously want. William hague, a tory posh boy, decided the other day that the war on drugs is a bust, maybe it’s time i too conceded that the war against nothing in particular has also failed to curb the rampant elephantiasised unwieldiness of nothing in particular. Then again the steam sale are right around the corner, maybe i might find some glimmer of salvation on that sea of green.

Bioshock the many: Apolitical storytelling at it’s finest.

There are two kinds of narrative, or there could be if one took proposition A: there are two kinds of narrative, to be true; then it logically follows that there are two kinds of narrative. What are those two kinds of narrative, well we can’t know with proposition A alone so let's introduce another element quickly before i loss your attention and through analysis we might discern what those kinds of narrative are. Bioshock: infinite is a the sequel to bioshock that strips away the tight, claustrophobic and thrilling atmosphere of the first game, Set underwater; and swaps it out for a the open sky, which admittedly is much harder to make feel claustrophobic.

The game takes place in the floating city of Columbia, seemingly idyllic with it’s wholesome christian veneer; only it turns out there all a bunch of racists, who’d of guessed. I had it in my head that when i was forcibly baptised on a arrival that things could only work out well. Mistake numero uno, that’s number one for our non spanish speaking readers, they built a city in the sky Acrophobia puts one in an awfully jumpy state, ironically enough. Just when the bathophobia fleeing from the city of rapture thought they were safe, BAM! Dunked in water quick enough to make your head spin, which we will call mistake number 2.

The list goes on until one realised it’s probably okay to start gunning these people without so much as a second thought, which is when the game hands you a gun and tells you to go nuts. Gyaliaphobia is not very common, so nuts most people tend to go. So far we’ve been talking about the interactions of an individual with society but there’s more… there are characters too. That being said just because there is a thing doesn’t mean they’re particularly worth talking about; unless that lack of interest, therein, is a point i can use to sledgehammer my misgivings, which this sentence is doing while also describing its own purpose. D E E P

Cognitive dissonance aside, the game has another more interesting aspect to itself. The so called ‘infinite’ part of the title. This isn’t some cheap attempt at sequel naming you’d see from the likes of the game industries resident puss bloated sequel behemoth. They’re instead playing the ace high of all stand alone ideas that make whatever their applied to really deep and meaningful for some reason… The mindfuck multiverse. If you can hear me sigh when i say that, it’s probably you’re end, i’m not tech savvy enough to rig that up. I’ve got a real fear of technology, which makes me, you’ve guessed it, a luddite.

As Stephen king once said hypothetically in my head, “what if all my stories were one big story, that’d be sick init.” the multiverse, in scifi terms, is time travel +1. Any story that takes place across multiple independent realities is automatically a meta deconstructionist satire and can be used to hand wave or link up just about anything: Like the reappearance of the freaky power ups from bioshock. The only downside is you’ve played the highest card in the deck and so there’s not a lot one can do in terms of escalation. 

I myself, sat here with toes curled up to shield by aching feet, have been wondering just that and as i do i create two branching realities, each their own narrative both rather Geliophobic in their own rights. It’s amusing that at the time of bioshocks: infinite's release The moral choice stuff was still quite prevalent, and that in a world of infinite branching realities the game and narrative are extremely linear, except for some backtracking in both. Apart from some meaningless coin flips, which when you think about does make it rather satirical in a sense or it would were it not played straight.

Quick fire round:

Gives the feels? it’s got some spicy notes here and there.

Do things get edgy in the dlc? what a leading question! You seem to already know.

Why did you avoid major story spoilers to shield to more interesting aspects of the narrative from scrutiny, thereby ruining your ability to answer your own initial question? no one expects me to answer it plus my tautology is invincible, it proves itself.

A Barbarous life at sea, A herald of the open oceans: fear and generalised anxiety in CIV 5

When is a door not a door, how is a raven like a writing desk, and does absolute power corrupt absolutely? Science, philosophy and general substance addled discourse has strained against the iron purview of such question since Socrates invented thinking back when the world was new, or at least comparatively newer. Civilisation five or V or 5, came out in 2010 but didn’t actually start dating until the DLC made it good, turning it from and awkward teen into a chiselled machismo with a firm yet tender grip. It is due to this game that we are now able to answer at least one of these questions: when it’s a ajar.

Already one question ahead of the rest of society i decided to double down on my perversion and enlisted the help of two fellow masters of the arts to aid me in my quest to uncover the true nature of man. In order to protect their identities and properly set up my Freudian understanding i have elected to call them Id and superego respectively, or rather disrespectively but certainly not unrespectively. Multiplayer is the realm in which realpolitik takes place; no man is an island but we certainly were, because we all spawned on islands.

The aptly named ID, (shout out to whoever came up with that (it was me!)) began at once to expand in a feverish frenzy. they sought out war and destruction as though they were a invasive goat left behind by sailors, however alone on their island the id had to content itself with seeking out god, or more specifically Sikhism's god.

The super ego however was steadfast in it's self control and discipline, promising to never raise arms unless provoked. There was a single caveat to this. The soul exception: a grudge they harboured against the nuclear warlord Mahatma Gandhi. Fate was not kind and their island was not empty. The power struggle began at once, two nations mud wrestling to keep their heads above the water on some desolate sandbank in the middle of the vast uncaring ocean, at least they had crabs.

Let me as an aside to the this tangent talk about the game for a minute, okay thirty seconds but this pretext doesn’t count, okay it does. One plays as the leaders of civilisations advancing through history and trying to prosper by whatever means available to them, if that sounds vague it’s because you only gave me thirty seconds so who’s to blame really? You! It’s definitely YOU! For imposing these ridiculous pressured on a journalist of my stature, i can’t even reach the top shelf without my tippy toes.

If they are id and superego, that makes me the Ego, shout out to…

I was playing as the Chinese and knowing a thing or two about china and it’s ocean going expeditions i figured i could do fairly well for myself so long as i avoided England. The plan was simple, spawn in a really convenient position on the map and use the shallow water ways to hop between islands and set up trade with the city states. Soon i had a merchant navy so full of seamen it make the emperor proud, he frolicked gaily. While that joke might strike some as crass and probably too easy, even for me, i am forced to remark that the racial stereotypes that informed my city names were far, far more crass indeed. You could probably guess them without giving it a moment's thought, i know i didn’t.

Yes those stereotypes couldn’t hope to justify the first joke and that’s the point really. The power rushed to my head like a surge of adrenaline or an another thing that works as a suitable, succinct simile. War! Religion, and institutional racism and homophobia! All had taken root on three separate islands independently. Once calm headed rational fellows, and myself, had been taken in my the spreadsheets, forced to sink or swim. we thought 'To hell with the little guy,' and sought out the quickest means to vilify them.

What happened next will add to my word count but i must note i haven't the foresight to know what my next session will bring but i shan't let its hindsight scrub my words thus far. Can humanity be redeemed, i wait with baited breath.

Part 2

The ego, myself. Produced a navy the likes of which the world had never seen. Bloody rampage followed. It began with espionage, the Iroquois stole, china denounced, war followed. In what seemed like the blink of an eye four cities were annexed. Next the id’s Celts rolled in like wailing Valkyries catching Ghandi unprepared allowing the super-ego and id to create their own Warsaw pact. Next was England, it’s religious zealotry out striped even the id’s as it ejaculated white hot religious fervor straight into the faces of other nations. Doubly concerning, they had declared war on the superego for reasons unknown.

Peace came with the price of blood, England was conquered by the trio but in her dying breaths the queen Elizabeth revealed the she’d been receiving funds from the Celts, so too had the Iroquois. The id had engineered wars to override the good sense of its contemporaries, it craven desire for gratification made manifest in the burning rubble of two lost empires.

What came next was the long silence. The tripartite psyche, now the only ones left, festered their animosity unable to find an external other for their Hegelian ascent to self-hood. Friendly exchanges became paranoid probings of the enemies intent. The high seas were filled with ships ferrying coin and a plague of fear that threatened to sink the islands into another brutal war. an incident of general land grabbing (literal!) brought tensions to boil in the far east, a now staving city bereft of aid became a sour joke to its calloused governors.  

Things came to a head when a set of deadly propositions were dropped into world governments lap: China tried to ban people copying their technology and failed, then the Celts banned crab. Finally japan proposed china be embargoed, so China’s fleet set sail and for a time it seemed war was about to surface again… 

Though the game isn’t yet over history waits for no one. So i must publish this story without an ending, at least for the time being. I’m sure you’ll all wait with baited breath for a follow up but in summary: war makes a mockery of all, power demands one renounce or become enslaved to teleology, and a writing desk and raven both have legs. This game has horses so i rate it civ 5/5.

The league of legends conspiracy: unmasked, disrobed and now totally nude.

I was, wasting time on / using, reddit when a message popped up in my inbox saying that i ought to review a new specific game or rather that i ought to apply to review a game that this person was associated with. While i haven’t bothered to reply for fear their refusal will shatter the bracket of glowing golden ego i am now cloaked in, i have however elected to share this detail with my adoring fans to keep them sure in the knowledge that i am too lazy to ‘sell out’ or ‘take my work seriously’ furthermore unto the quagmire.

League of legends is a powerful opioid drug manufactured by in a snowstorm by an as yet unnamed demigod for it’s nefarious scheme of destroying the world. Now if that sounds just a little unhinged to you then well done, you took that literally; you fucking idiot. That being said it’s time for me to don my tinfoil hat as i unravel the conspiracy of league of legends.

That sounded like a decent thing to say but i know next to nothing about conspiracies, which makes me remarkably well informed for a conspiracy theorist, but hey that’s just a set up for an reference, an internet reference. The game is a moba standing Massive oba (oba meaning ruler in the Yoruba language spoken in west africa) this initially didn’t seem to make a lot of sense until the game took a despotic turn eating up by free time and subjecting me to an endless tirade of debasing and humiliating experiences or as they are called in game: matches.

Each match lasts about as long as an episode of the X files but unlike the X files the truth isn’t out there all there is ‘out there’ is four angry teens out to talk shit about you... and the enemy team is there too. Talking about individual encounters or events that transpired during my playtime is much like trying to recall the events of a drunken night out. Ultimately i can’t decide if i had fun or not. So assume i did, maybe, i mean i‘m kind of sore and for some reason there's a bruise on my left cheek so… good times?

Much like a cult the game introduces strange and unhinged behaviours into the minds of it’s players. Sadism, antagonism, loathing and tantrums or SALT for short. Players on the losing team often exhibit symptoms of saltiness, seeing as they are collectively at a disadvantage though that won’t stop the instalocking AP jungle fizz from feeding because you didn’t give them half of all your minions and a kill every two minutes. It’s perfectly possible to win the game and feel nothing but puerile hatred for oneself and one’s team, this is called competitive mode in game. There’s also the possibility you’ll start spending a lot of money without gaining any tangible benefit, a fate i cleverly avoided by being broke.

Each game is structured like a story by laughably racist hp lovecraft. Each story starts normally enough with a long and boring tirade about geology and then bam! Madness, horrors beyond your own awareness and a light smattering of pseudo scientific racism and racial stereotypes. I’m pretty sure that latter elements are just dota trolls working to destabilise the game in a vile conspiracy to undermine the values the community... or i would be sure of that if it wasn’t half the darn player base demanding i provide them with oral satisfaction on the basis because they didn’t bother to ward the river.

After that all bets are off and the game progresses to the team fight stage. This is supposed to be part where the players engage in a bout of jolly cooperation. The reality is a cornucopia of decadent egotism that’d make even most vain regime on the planet blush with their comparatively meek sensibility. Tilted and salty individual attempt to interact with fellow teammates, this is about a friendly as starved chimps engaging in bare knuckle boxing. It is at this point where the illuminati wins… for some reason, i’m not sure why but if i keep reillterialing the point emphatically it will only serve to make my rational argument more solvent.

As of march there are 134 playable champions in the game, so we’ll say over 120 because that’s a nicer number and to be honest no one plays Skarner anyway. Apparently Mordekaiser is now the least played dude, i guess he is no longer neuero uno brazil. Mind you i’m not sure he ever was. Anyway, is that too many champions? Who knows? Pundits probably.

The game has lore but it’s about as meaningful as changing your profile picture on facebook to show solidarity with the current humanitarian disaster or star wars movie, i can’t remember if have heard this joke elsewhere but if i openly admit to the possibility of stealing it then it’s okay right? To say any more would be giving it more credit than it’s due, even this is a bit much. Anything more i ought to say? Probably but I’m not wildly interested in spending my sunday morning remembering when i could be watching the swallows in garden. Oh, Aram is a thing… it’s at least slightly less tryhard.

Over 120 champions and only one is a horse (half horse), now this is a conspiracy. I therefor rate this game. 0.5/about 120.

Bayonetta vs the bible: what can teach us more about perversion?

Normally there’s a process to all this, some kind of brainstorm occurs. Yet all i have to work with today is a light drizzle. Call that a peak behind the curtain if you will. I however will call it what it is, a stalling tactic while i try to think up some crumb or otherwise underwhelming morsel to moan about… how about bayonetta? I mean i haven’t actually finished it but that hasn’t stopped be from forming judgements about my own life to this point.

The thing is there is some baggage about the portrayal of women from last time, and this game is probably the one to use as a case study in video games (bear with me here). There are some very articulate people that make a lot of points explaining the complexities of women’s portals that are often insightful to the native view, there is also a lot of inarticulate shouting that is somehow less coherent than I. Note how i haven’t ascribed these characteristics to any side of the debate and yet you're still decided my rough position and whom i would label with descriptors.

The easy thing to do would be to disavow the debate, or wade into it so cack handedly as to piss all sides off with my misconstruing the points being made; but, and i feel this is the true master stroke here. i could spend half my review discussing the topic but only in an entirely facile approach to the issue in what i imagine to be a fairly dry read for a punchline that is too weak to justify the investment, leading to one's ultimate dejection and isolation from the text therein as the simple accessible lexicon is swapped out for a more alien thickset vocabulary to drive the hitherto prose…

‘Live and let die’ was the title song for the eponymous james bond film of the same name, moonraker. Heavy drum motifs and a accelerated instrumentals are played off against slower more violin centred sequences, the latter corresponding to easy going optimistic past and the heavier, faster sections used as a representative of the confusing and ethically murky present. The change of one's own beliefs from live and let live, to live and let die. Paul mccartney himself having recently taken up piracy on the high seas could be a literialsation of the transformation. Do anything for long enough and you’ll have the niggling urge to address the complexity of more serious aspects of the topic even if your forat forbids you to do so. Meaning one must mature and incorporate more complex elements into the repertoire of revert to a fundematist view in a total rejection of this call.

After much soul searching i have found a truly satisfying answer: No one cares about what i have to say. My major problem when playing the game was the looming fear someone would walk in on me playing the game, and immediately judge me, an anxiety made manifest in my long and dreary paragraphs above. I sat watching a tightly clad dominatrix figure beat her way through hordes of enemies while dancing as if on a stripper pole.

The only thing is i’ve seen enough explicit, that is pornographic, material before that the titillation of the game itself is mild. The real perversion is the knowledge i’m engaging wholly unironically with questionable media and finding that complication exciting. The act of debasing my own rather perfect morality an antecedence to the possibility of further taboo acts. Recognising the problematic aspects that leak into one's sexuality as being a source of confusion; Frankly that's quite hawt.

Anyone trying to make it okay is therefor trying to kill my boner in service of their own boners, meta rhymes with better and that's what my boner is. A more self aware boner, a boner that refuses the simple basal pleasures as an end unto themselves and seeks to build upon them to reach new heights. Mine is the inevitable march of progress, a tower of babylon. Would the violence in game of thrones be better if we didn’t feel for those being slain? No of course a that’s rhetorical question, why would you answer it knowing i just did right now by writing this. Plato took the high road on this and thought that by not playing bayotta we’d ourselves not come to view women as titninjas in the first place but plato was building society from the ground up. Working with what we have it’s better to try and get off on the fact that what we’re doing, while not explicitly wrong, is questionable like watching a schlocky horror flick, or a rocky horror pic. To become a pervert and getting off on moral complexity, to live and let die, is the calling of the socially conscious gamer. 

7/10 - made my fingers sore... from button mashing.