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Games, like so many things in life, sometimes don’t quite manage to finish as strongly as you’d like, we’ve al been there, having defeated score upon score of ninjas armed to the teeth with guns and pointy sticks, and finally assailed the impregnable fortress. The smoke clears before the final showdown: so, what nameless vision of terror confronts us? Hold the phone, it seems to be a slightly weedy-looking girly-man in a finely tailored suit – and is that eye shadow he’s wearing?
Where have all of the tank-toting flame-spewing anti- heroes gone? Where are the eight-foot-tall mad dictators? Tekken 3 had it pegged – there were demons to fight, great big ones that farted fire and had wings and horns. Great big bloody horns. Not a suit from savile row and a haircut from Toni and guy. Metal gear solid almost got it right – you fought a robot that belched torpedoes. But then what did the developer do? It got tempted with a mano-a-mano battle and I ended up grappling with a sweaty man, stripped to the waist, by firelight. Think Ollie Reed and Alan Bates in women in love. No, no, no.
So what of the PS2? What nemeses has the big grown-up console conjured up? The villain of Time Crisis 2? He was about as rough as a silk hanky and camper than Dale Wintons barber. Final Fantasy X’s Seymour Guado? With his skirt and his coiffured blue hair, at any point you expected him to counter an insult with “ Ooh, get her!” don’t even start on Vamp in Sons of Liberty – he looks like he listens to the smiths in his spare time and secretly hates his dad.
What’s so wrong with seeing a big, evil, ugly, armored thing die in your blood-soaked grasp? It justifies the three death-filled days it took you to get there – an annoying fight with a wimpy mastermind who wont stay silly or fight properly does not. If I wanted to beat up people in nice shirts I’d go out on Friday nights, not buy videogames. You have been warned. All of you…
Where have all of the tank-toting flame-spewing anti- heroes gone? Where are the eight-foot-tall mad dictators? Tekken 3 had it pegged – there were demons to fight, great big ones that farted fire and had wings and horns. Great big bloody horns. Not a suit from savile row and a haircut from Toni and guy. Metal gear solid almost got it right – you fought a robot that belched torpedoes. But then what did the developer do? It got tempted with a mano-a-mano battle and I ended up grappling with a sweaty man, stripped to the waist, by firelight. Think Ollie Reed and Alan Bates in women in love. No, no, no.
So what of the PS2? What nemeses has the big grown-up console conjured up? The villain of Time Crisis 2? He was about as rough as a silk hanky and camper than Dale Wintons barber. Final Fantasy X’s Seymour Guado? With his skirt and his coiffured blue hair, at any point you expected him to counter an insult with “ Ooh, get her!” don’t even start on Vamp in Sons of Liberty – he looks like he listens to the smiths in his spare time and secretly hates his dad.
What’s so wrong with seeing a big, evil, ugly, armored thing die in your blood-soaked grasp? It justifies the three death-filled days it took you to get there – an annoying fight with a wimpy mastermind who wont stay silly or fight properly does not. If I wanted to beat up people in nice shirts I’d go out on Friday nights, not buy videogames. You have been warned. All of you…
im·preg·na·ble1 ( P ) Pronunciation Key (m-prgn-bl)
adj.
Impossible to capture or enter by force: an impregnable fortress.
Difficult or impossible to attack, challenge, or refute with success: an impregnable argument.
im·pen·e·tra·ble ( P ) Pronunciation Key (m-pn-tr-bl)
adj.
Impossible to penetrate or enter: an impenetrable fortress.
Please tell me exactly what difference it would have made by changing the word a la thesaurus?
adj.
Impossible to capture or enter by force: an impregnable fortress.
Difficult or impossible to attack, challenge, or refute with success: an impregnable argument.
im·pen·e·tra·ble ( P ) Pronunciation Key (m-pn-tr-bl)
adj.
Impossible to penetrate or enter: an impenetrable fortress.
Please tell me exactly what difference it would have made by changing the word a la thesaurus?
"and finally assailed the impregnable fortress"
You surely meant inpenetrable ?
You surely meant inpenetrable ?
Games, like so many things in life, sometimes don’t quite manage to finish as strongly as you’d like, we’ve al been there, having defeated score upon score of ninjas armed to the teeth with guns and pointy sticks, and finally assailed the impregnable fortress. The smoke clears before the final showdown: so, what nameless vision of terror confronts us? Hold the phone, it seems to be a slightly weedy-looking girly-man in a finely tailored suit – and is that eye shadow he’s wearing?
Where have all of the tank-toting flame-spewing anti- heroes gone? Where are the eight-foot-tall mad dictators? Tekken 3 had it pegged – there were demons to fight, great big ones that farted fire and had wings and horns. Great big bloody horns. Not a suit from savile row and a haircut from Toni and guy. Metal gear solid almost got it right – you fought a robot that belched torpedoes. But then what did the developer do? It got tempted with a mano-a-mano battle and I ended up grappling with a sweaty man, stripped to the waist, by firelight. Think Ollie Reed and Alan Bates in women in love. No, no, no.
So what of the PS2? What nemeses has the big grown-up console conjured up? The villain of Time Crisis 2? He was about as rough as a silk hanky and camper than Dale Wintons barber. Final Fantasy X’s Seymour Guado? With his skirt and his coiffured blue hair, at any point you expected him to counter an insult with “ Ooh, get her!” don’t even start on Vamp in Sons of Liberty – he looks like he listens to the smiths in his spare time and secretly hates his dad.
What’s so wrong with seeing a big, evil, ugly, armored thing die in your blood-soaked grasp? It justifies the three death-filled days it took you to get there – an annoying fight with a wimpy mastermind who wont stay silly or fight properly does not. If I wanted to beat up people in nice shirts I’d go out on Friday nights, not buy videogames. You have been warned. All of you…
Where have all of the tank-toting flame-spewing anti- heroes gone? Where are the eight-foot-tall mad dictators? Tekken 3 had it pegged – there were demons to fight, great big ones that farted fire and had wings and horns. Great big bloody horns. Not a suit from savile row and a haircut from Toni and guy. Metal gear solid almost got it right – you fought a robot that belched torpedoes. But then what did the developer do? It got tempted with a mano-a-mano battle and I ended up grappling with a sweaty man, stripped to the waist, by firelight. Think Ollie Reed and Alan Bates in women in love. No, no, no.
So what of the PS2? What nemeses has the big grown-up console conjured up? The villain of Time Crisis 2? He was about as rough as a silk hanky and camper than Dale Wintons barber. Final Fantasy X’s Seymour Guado? With his skirt and his coiffured blue hair, at any point you expected him to counter an insult with “ Ooh, get her!” don’t even start on Vamp in Sons of Liberty – he looks like he listens to the smiths in his spare time and secretly hates his dad.
What’s so wrong with seeing a big, evil, ugly, armored thing die in your blood-soaked grasp? It justifies the three death-filled days it took you to get there – an annoying fight with a wimpy mastermind who wont stay silly or fight properly does not. If I wanted to beat up people in nice shirts I’d go out on Friday nights, not buy videogames. You have been warned. All of you…