11/28/2002

Well, not only are all systems still nominal in the southern hemisphere, but I'm proud to announce that the fire department doused that sum'bitch in no time. And now on with the post.

So, following our Thanksgiving dinner, I engaged myself in a little game called Grand Theft Auto: Vice City, and something ocurred to me. I like violence. At least on a video game level.

I'm pretty much against censorship in general, so I think the notion of banning or censoring games is ridiculous to begin with, but before I go any further, let me run down the concept of Vice City.

In a ficticious Miami rip-off of a town called Vice City, you play a lowlife thug whose mission is to work your way up the pecking order in the Vice City underworld by stealing cars, killing people in creative fashion, and breaking every rule in the Megacity Book of Law. That'll show Judge Dredd. Even if he is the law, I... Sorry. Got my ficticious worlds crossed, there. I forgot, in Vice City, you drive Buicks, not dress like them.

Anyway, the point of this game is basically to steal, maim, kill, and destroy everything you possibly can without getting beat down by the cops. All this while driving stylish wheels and listening to vintage 80's music. If I may make a suggestion, tune the radio station in your vehicle of choice to VRock. Iron Maiden and Quiet Riot sound even better when driving a Corvette, trying to take out a corrupt pizza boy on a Yamaha scooter.

And you know what? I love this game. It's one of the few reasons I'm considering buying a PlayStation 2 of my own. Why do I love it? Because it's violent. I love being able to Malvo (read: kill with a sniper rifle) a guy while he's practicing his drive at a golf course. I love being able to shoot a hooker at point blank range with a shotgun. I love being able to take out the police force with a flame thrower before they get out the goddamn chopper and shoot me down. All I told them was that I smelled bacon. I can't wait to get the chainsaw and act out my deepest, darkest Scarface fantasies. And you know why? Because I'm a fairly conservative person in the real world, and I need to vent once in a while. A game like this allows me to satisfy that sadistic id deep down inside that is just aching to run that schmuck from Jersey off the road on Route 8 South.

While I'm on the topic, what is it why you Jersey people? You're not bad human beings, just bad motorists. Seriously, do you even know why there are lines on the road? Honestly now.

But y'know, I really believe that a game such as this, a game that glorifies senseless violence to an almost disgusting and inhuman level is downright therapeutic for the average joe. Fuck anger management, this is all the therapy you need right here, at your fingertips for a mere $49.99 plus sales tax. No hourly rates, no ridiculous Dr. Jennifer Melfi trying to talk about your manipulative mother and the family of mallards in your backyard and how they represent your family, just junkies, hookers, cops, dealers, a full arsenal that would make fucking Rambo jealous, and a kickass radio station blaring Quiet Riot.

Life is good. Cum on, feel the noize.

Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.

P.S. - I have one more vote for a five month marriage between Affleck and Lopez. Keep 'em coming.

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