Sorry, but I haven't yet shared the information about myself that would typically display here. Check back later to see if that changes, or if I instead choose to remain an enigma.
Late night reactions to the final (?) Uncharted game.
My reaction to Uncharted: The Lost Legacy says more about me than about the game itself. Ever since the seriesí main protagonist Nathan Drake first smirked incredulously at his own death-defying exploits, the Naughty Dog developed series has been one of the most consistently great franchises in games, with Uncharted 2 standing out as a particularly iconic title from the previous generation. For certain, Uncharted 4 was at least a couple hours too long, but it managed to send off a beloved character with an appropriate level of style and sincerity. The time had come to wrap things up. Nathan Drake and his way of doing things had run its course. I didnít realize how true that statement was until I played Uncharted: The Lost Legacy.
The top 5 games that provided a release valve from the endless nightmare of the last year.
Well, that was a year. Simultaneously a neverending nightmare and gone in a flash. But hey, weíre still alive!. Constantly exhausted and despondent at the current state of humanity, but still living. Hooray? The role of games in my life has changed due to the paranoia creep inflicted by the daily news cycle. Namely, I played fewer of them, made it a point to read more, stopped looking at Twitter, generally trying to spend less of my life scrolling through feeds on backlit screens. I found it harder to fully enjoy things this year; fully diving into some great virtual world was harder to justify than ever. Maybe itís me, maybe itís just that there were fewer games that immediately demanded my time and attention the way many 2017 games did. Most of the games I did play came from my always-ex
EA's latest soccer title is difficult to look at for a number of reasons.
Iíve been playing a lot of Fifa 19 since it dropped a couple weeks ago. Iíve mostly enjoyed my time with it, and there are several gameplay tweaks that I find interesting, but, Iíve found myself increasingly transfixed by an aspect of the game that I highly doubt anyone at Electronic Arts spent much time considering on even the most rudimentary level: the menus.
How I Learned to Stop Hating and Love the Boogie Bomb
Weíve only just passed the halfway point of the year, and there are plenty of highly-anticipated games still to be released, but itís hard to imagine any title becoming the mass market sensation that Fortnite has become. Itís a remarkable rise to prominence, considering the gameís extended development process that birthed a completely different type of game, and the slightly sketchy origin story of the battle royale mode that made PUBG Corporation briefly consider legal action against the company that gave them an engine. It was a certainly a brazen lane switch to go where the money was, but Fortnite has become its own monster in the months afterward. Without fail, thereís a new barely believable metric demonstrating the gameís rapid rise and financial success seemingly every week, exempli
This summer's World Cup has been full of excitement and surprise. It's virtual counterpart is severely lacking in both.
There are few events that guarantee joy and excitement with more certainty than the World Cup. It doesnít matter that FIFA is run by an openly corrupt cabal of capitalist power mongers, or that the tournament will be in the hands of human rights abusers until at least 2030, or that the United States, thanks to a mix of arrogance, incompetence, and a lack of actual talent, managed not to qualify when all they had to do was beat a Trinidad and Tobago reserve team. (Iím not mad I swear.) Electronic Arts, as the preeminent seller of all non-basketball related sports games, has had the World Cup license since 1998, and they have used the occasion to add some substantial content in the past. Previous World Cup games have given players the opportunity to play through the qualification rounds from
Horizon's DLC is the perfect excuse to revisit one of 2017's best games.
Horizon: Zero Dawn exists in a strange paradox. It was positioned to be one of biggest games of the year thanks to a series of impressive showcases at pre-release events. As a game from a first party studio for the best-selling console out, it didnít lack for promotional backing from Sony. Reviews praised the game almost unanimously. Yet it feels like the game became yesterdayís news way too quickly, its moment in the sun extinguished prematurely. The gameís arrival was immediately superseded a week later by Zelda: Breath of the Wild, a game that revived one of the mediumís oldest franchises and reset the standards for what to expect from open world games. That, along with the other two dozen great games released in 2017, took a lot of the air out of the room. Even accounting for the dizzy
Yeah, it was terrible to watch. But some cool things were shown too!
Awards shows are always bloated, self-involved trash, but few shows inspire my body to recoil backward with white-hot intensity the way The Game Awards often do. There were a few pleasant moments: Geoff Keighley's speech to Hideo Kojima made me deeply uncomfortable, but it clearly came from a space of genuine affection. The speech from the dude that made That, Dragon Cancer was touching and represented the changing tableau of video games. But those moments were life rafts in a sea infested with unadulterated advertisements and corporate-sponsored sewage masquerading as jokes. Iíd say whoever signed off on the Sentient Razor From Hell should be shot into space and forced to listen to Duke Nukemís very timely jokes from the Bulletstorm remaster for the rest of eternity, but that would mean t