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Tycho / on Wed, Feb 20 2002 at 12:00 am

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NumQuestions = 20

To be honest, this conversation actually took place in the car on the way back from SpokVegas.  Other than that, everything else in the comic is factual, provided you don’t count the room or our representations in it.

This was the month I’ve been waiting for on the Xbox tip, but the reviews I’m seeing so far are somewhat disheartening.  WWF Raw, which I’ve been looking to compare to (in my opinion, the Highly Amusing) WWF Smackdown: Just Bring it, gets a 6.5 from Gamespot and a 9.1 from IGN.  Mysterious.  How about Wreckless, then?  Hong-Kongy, mission-based driving action, amazing graphics?  Gamespot clocks in at a geriatric 6.8, while IGN shoots by at (a comparatively blistering) 9.0.  Curious about New Legends?  I consumed the 7.0 review at Gamespot, knowing in my heart that IGN would give it something like a ten point five to amplify my distress.  Neither one was crazy about Nightcaster, averaging out at about a seven, which would ordinarily place it in the far-flung suburbs of Buysville.  But, when I saw this bit on Evil Avatar, I became despondent:  Game Informer gives Gunvalkyrie and Jet Set Radio Future - the games I was convinced would rescue the month - a 5.25 and a 7, respectively?  I guess I’ve never heard of Game Informer, so for all I know, those numbers might represent how much they paid for lunch.  It got me thinking, though - I like all kinds of things other people don’t seem to.  I felt Kingpin’s “BagMan” multiplayer mode was the best thing since best things.  Also, Gabe and I are of the opinion that Zombie Revenge is about as good as a brawler gets, and we’re the only ones who think that.  I typically take the average of the reviews I read and make my decisions based on that, but instead of discarding a month’s worth of games on a stranger’s say-so, I’m considering heading into EB making up my own Goddamn mind.  It’s something I’ll need to ease into, obviously, and I’ve been making decisions all morning in an effort to limber up.

I signed us up to be a part of this Dungeon Siege Sneak Preview thing, but since I don’t see us on there, maybe I did something wrong.  Still, maybe one of those other sites can hook you up:  as I understood it, once the contest goes up for reals, the first ten people to sign up at each site come away with an early copy of DS.  That certainly seems like something I’d want you to be able to do here.  I wasn’t supposed to say anything about it obviously, but I’ve been to this Gas Powered Games place - it’s like a half-hour away, in good traffic.  If memory serves, Chris Taylor and I spoke briefly regarding my urethra.  I guess they might be mad that I broke the silence regarding my visit, but what are they going to do - send somebody over here to kick my ass because I said their game was fun?  That seems unlikely.  The ass kicking I mean, not the fun.  I can vouch personally for the fun.  The game does everything it possibly can to be fun, streamlining or outright removing the tedious crust of classic hack and slash gameplay.  You’ll see what I mean.   

We all get depressed sometimes regarding our capacities and aptitudes, and from where I’m sitting you’re looking at two real options.  The first is to end your own life.  Penny Arcade doesn’t support this option, so please don’t call our friendly staff for assistance - I only include it here for the sake of completeness.  In fact, we recommend most firmly against it, particularly if you would like to continue living, or have new carpets.  The other option - the palliative yet indecorous option, which we fully and officially endorse - is to find something worse than you can do, and scramble atop it with a hoarse laugh.  I learned this technique from our own Gabriel, who is nothing if not reprehensible, taking comfort where he can in the crude scratchings of the autistic or the infirm.  So, if consumed with self-loathing regarding my vocal and lyrical contributions - as I was Monday, for example - I’ve found that if I slam down a shot of Bryan Wilson’s holiday indiscretions, and chase that with Uncle Ed’s Millennium Band, I emerge from despair invigorated and cocksure.

(CW)TB out.

ding-dong ding-dong ding-dong ding


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