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We've ended our evening at a trendy college bar known as Moose's Beach House,
and oh my fucking god this girl playing pool has an amazing ass.
What concerns me most about our experience is the total disregard of, you
know, games. I don't care that a portable can track down my friends,
assuming they both own the thing and have it turned on at the time.
(This ass was obviously crafted by genetic science to be the voluptuous ideal
of perfection. In more romantic times, wars would be fought and won over such
pure beauty.)
It really doesn't phase me to learn that a so-called console has a faster
processor and a larger hard drive than anything else on the market, nor do I
care that it's constantly connected to the Internet.
(Player 2 notices me staring off, and turns around to sneak a peek at
whatever it is I'm enthralled by. He turns back, quickly, hand on his forehead
in a mixture of amazement and frustration.)
("Jesus Christ," he mumbles, shaking his head.)
I don't care, either, that a console happens to be both fast and
"consumer-friendly," or that it's being produced by the "number
one global manufacturer of DVD-related products."
("Eight ball, corner pocket," she announces, as she bends over to
take a shot. My heart skips a beat as a single tear wells up in my eye.)
(Billy's shaking his head. I'm not sure that he'd ever stopped.)
Once upon a time, an entire industry hinged on what was shown behind these
very same Convention Center walls. These days, anyone worth a damn in the video
game market steers clear of Vegas and saves their big guns for other shows, most
predominantly E3. What follows, then, is criticism only for what was shown to
me, and a likely irrelevant warning to the gaming industry as a whole.
They're games, folks, and they're sold to gamers. I certainly don't hear your
target audience arguing over a system's specs and capabilities, and if you spent
some of your goddam venture capital listening to us rather than putting absurd
billboards in Times Square, you'd know this too. We're arguing over who has the
coolest games. We're defending our beloved consoles based not on some irrelevant
numbers and statistics, but on which one provides the best experience. Which one
has the most enticing library. Which one promises the most fun.
What you're showing us could be the most advanced, high-end, beautiful
product in its class, but unless you give us reason to believe that we're going
to have opportunity and enticement to play with it, you're nothing more than a
cocktease and a waste of time.
(Player 2 sneaks another look and winces, in pain.)
("Let's go home and shoot ourselves in the fucking face," he
pleads.)
It's not worth it, man. There are plenty more inviting options out there
already.
And they're probably cheaper, too.
Frank Cifaldi has entered the Lost Level of hell.
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