Adam Sessler writes about games that are deeply tied to his personal memories from 16 years of covering games.
http://kotaku.com/memories-of-my-16-year-career-in-video-games-1580581507
http://kotaku.com/memories-of-my-16-year-career-in-video-games-1580581507
God the internet hates me. They don't just want me dead; they want to rape my wife, because . . . of resolution differences. I really can't focus on this but I am having some very dark fantasies and would love to meet one of these little NeoGAF shits out on the street.
I'm supposed to ignore it, a professional doesn't let this get to him, but they want me dead and they want to assault my family. I'm a shill, a drug addict, an avatar of evil. I don't even like this anymore; I'm tired of having to come up with something to say in front of the camera, there just isn't anything more to say that's interesting. There are two consoles and one is more expensive than the other and they're already sold out at pre-order so who gives a goddam. I just want to get the videos done and desperately track the view counts on YouTube to see if we meet our goals. But the games aren't here and I'm tired. I'm speeding down Interstate 5 and LA is nowhere in sight, the glimmering at the highway's end recedes further into the horizon, its brilliance ever dulling until it's nothing more than the end of the road and we're still not there.
At least I had Mass Effect. The symbiotic despair of the game and my self-pitying were soul mates for the four days I played non-stop. I've always felt that the controversy of the game's ending ignored that the entire game was an ending, a summation of decisions and behaviors that came before. Even the game's oh-so-infuriating "decision" at its conclusion and its seemingly indistinct results resonated with me. We are what we have done, this desire to find approbation in the final analysis, it's a falsity, a children's story we tell ourselves to mitigate the frustrations. You don't get to collect on your efforts, your efforts are all you've collected.
The affable, inimitable and extraordinary Todd Howard arrives and mentions that he has something special to show. The first half of the demo is flawless, bloodier than anything seen earlier in the day, the audience is screaming with glee as the VATS kill-cam dismembers limbs in a plasmic mist. The representative from the legal department in the control room is hapless, this is live . . . it's already out there. Then comes a demonstration of the crafted weapons, the Rock-it Launcher, and it's loaded with teddy bears. The next two minutes are a lovechild of Goya and Jerry Lewis; Teddy bears eviscerate and sever, the audience, especially a kid named Flitz, are screaming with childish sadism. Yeah it's like the Roman Coliseum but it's paydirt. We bring in some of the highest ratings ever. We'll have to replicate this again over the next 6 years and it will lead to the decision to turn X-Play into a daily show, which will overextend resources and bring about its slow demise, but at that moment . . . fucking teddy bears.
I tried Absinthe and there was a very attractive Spanish lady who wanted to see me at the same club two days later (neglecting to mention she would be with some dude).