GOD OF WAR, GOD OF STINKY STINKY WAR
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Like most boys who grew up with Atari, Commodore 64, Amiga, and of course Nintendo I am one who from time to time enjoys a good romp through the pixelated digital world. Lately I've been enjoying Animal Crossing (God why), Castlevania Portrait of Ruin, Guitar Hero II and God of War.

God of War was one of those games that came out on the PS2 about a year ago and took the gaming world by storm. There was much Kratos have my first born child to do as you please, Kratos please let me bear your Children, and Kratos please go talk to my mother-in-law with your bloody swords. After playing the first level and beating the irritating and ever cheap hydra all I kept thinking is Kratos needs to lick deeze nuts because the first level of God of War stinks in a way that only a lactose intollerent person can stink up a bathroom after some good pizza. The closest thing that I can compare God of War to is that it's sort of like Devil May Cry with it's over the top button mashing combo sequences put to a Greek mythology theme.

Let me preface, well I guess it's a little late for a preface but I was never a fan of the hack and slash game style that is Devil May Cry, Rygar, and 3d versions of Castlevania. So the fact that I hated God of War really isn't a surprise I just thought that for a game with so much critical acclaim it would have been better. I will say that graphically the game is very pretty and that yes soundtrack is fantastic but the mechanics were terrible. The game in many places felt like it was just taunting me with terrible game play aspects. The concept seems to be that you are supposed to mash as many buttons as possible while continuously hitting various undead enemies that just happen to get back up no less than 10 times before you finally kill them. I guess the idea is that you raise your BRUTAL counter or something but all I kept thinking is WHY WON'T YOU DIE. Things I hated in the first level:

1.) Game mechanics: When I think of great 3d platformers I think of the Prince of Persia series. The control system for that game was so fluid and natural that you rarely thought about what you were doing you just did it. God of War had sadly none of these things. The controls work as follows the left control stick moves you, the right control stick to allows you to dodge, the triangle does fierce attacks, the square button does lite attacks, the circle button does grab attacks, the 'x' button jumps, R2 opens things but sometimes you have to press R2 and then hit X, and last but not least L1 allows you to block. WTF, I need to be Dr. Fucking Octagaon to be able navigate a level.

2.) Walking and balancing: You have to go from one ship to another ship while walking on a log. Doing balancing acts like this have never been a great thing in 3d platforming games mainly because the camera angle is always fights you to make it harder than it needs to be. What almost always ends up happening is that you find yourself trying to balance your character while the camera is aiming from underneath you. The saving grace of many games is that you can move that porn star angle to something that might help you instead of just irritate you. God of War while not having the crotch angle did have a irritating tendency to place the camera at semi inconvenient angles and did not give you the option to switch the camera angle.

3.) Irritating action sequence: To kill some undead archers you have to grab a box and periodically kick it across the deck of a ship while keeping the box from getting hit by arrows. One hit too many and the box breaks and you have to go back and get the another box. Huzzah.

4.) Save points: There was one part where I had to listen to Poseidon yammer on about how the Hydra had troubled his kingdom for far too long and that I Kratos should kill it. Right after that a bunch of bad guys appeared which if you are one who is low on life have a tendency to kill you. The game then starts you from right before that cut scene to let you do it all over again. What made it all that more irritating was right after the cut and fight scene was a save point. Come on how hard would it have been to have the game automatically save right after that whole ordeal.

5.) Boss Battle

• Hydra Head Betsy: She was just a head in a lonely dark ships hull, I was God slayer new to the battlefield. We saw each other from opposite sides of the ship, drawn together by fate and fatal attraction we started our silent and deadly waltz where sadly one of us had two left feet. The scene went like this: 1) Run up and slash the hydra as many times as you can. 2) Block and let the Hydra gnash away at you which would of course push you all the be back. 3) Repeat until the game prompts you press the mythical circle button which like a Mortal Kombat fatality kills the Hydra head in a fantastic display of violence. It's not that I mind the violence it was more that I had to do all that highly repetitive button mashing to finally kill the Hydra head with a single button that then kicked off a choreographed display of athleticism that I as the gamer had nothing to do with.

• Hydra head Bertha: was a little bit better since this time Bertha unlike her sister Betsy choose to get it's head stuck up through the top most deck of a ship. Standard operating procedure was however the same with me running over and slashing at the head and then retreating a safe distance as the head then tried to suck me up Hoover fashion to then bash me to tiny little bits.

• Hydra head Nancy, Shella and their mother head Roberta. The game had some sort of bug where you could stand at the edge of the level on top of some boxes and take pot shots at Nancy and Shella until you weakened them to the point where you could jump on some platform that just happened to be right over where their exhausted heads would land and just happened to have Hydra sized meat hooks attached to them. Fighting Roberta while not hard was one of those video game experiences that brings back my prepubescent video game rages. You know back in the days when you believed the world was fair and that the computer didn't cheat. The game has you fighting Roberta in the crows nest of a ship where you have very little room to move. Right off the bat we are dealing with two things that I don't like in games a small platform that just so happens to be way off the ground. Mix in some clumsy game mechanics and you nearly have a recipe for carrot cake agitation. The only thing that saved the game was that falls from forty feet didn't hurt you and that you REALLY have to try to fall. Once you get the pattern Roberta gets weakened and finally goes down in an orgy of blood all activated by the ye old circle button.

Did I keep playing after the first level? Yes. Why? Because my father always taught me to finish what I started and I still remember wanting to quit playing kiddie football that one summer. So I beat the game and though it was fun in some parts it still wasn't the 5 stars that everyone made it out to be. One of my favorite reviews had to have been on IGN where the reviewer made the comment of how Kratos wasn't so good at platforming but how that wasn't much a big part of the game. Right-0, not just most of the Temple of Pandora's box and almost all of the level which will not be mentioned do to the rage that it causes me. So wee to God of War and wee to Sony of America.

FESSICK ARE THERE BARS AHEAD? IF THERE ARE WE'LL ALL BE DEAD.
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I stumbled across an article about Andre the Giant a few weeks back and it may have been one of the more illuminating bits of biography that I've read in awhile. I really suggest that anyone should read it even if you only know of Andre the Giant from his role as Fessick in "Princess Bride". Let me preface this by saying that I found this to be a great article because the man would have been the equivalent of the son of Dionysus/Bacchus (Greek or Roman God of spirits) and his ability to drink was something few people can even imagine. One of the quotes that best sum's up his tolerance was when getting surgery for his back the anethesiologist unsure of how much pain medication to give him asked him how much did it take for Andre to feel buzzed. Andre replied that it took him about two liters to get a warm feeling. Two liters.


HAPPY BIRTHDAY MUM
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It was my mothers birthday on Thursday and no I don't know how old she is. I know it's sad but then up until a few years ago I never really knew what the day her birthday was. Come to think of it I'm pretty sure I already forgot when my Dad's birthday is... November maybe? Maybe. I can here the cries of "bad son" already coming from SG but I choose to take the course that most people do and say that it isn't entirely my fault. When I was younger my parents never made a big deal about their birthdays or their anniversaries and as an adult they still don't. It would never fail but about a week before a birthday or anniversary I would always get a call from one parent telling me that it was the other parents birthday coming up and that we were going out to dinner but that I didn't need to worry about buying a gift. See what I mean, if no one ever makes a big deal about it then why would I remember. Lame, I know.

Now let me switch places here. If it were my birthday coming up I sure would hope that someone would remember it but then again I'm of two opinions on my own birthday. I'd love to celebrate it, go out with a big bang, drink myself into drunkenness and Taco Bell late night binging but at the same time I kind of prefer the anonymity. I think it all boils down to me being a mostly quiet person who is uncomfortable in large social situations but who does like to be around people. A person who sits on the fence between introverts and extroverts a person who in Christianity God would say that I am neither hot nor cold but am luke warm so I must be spit out.

Thursday was dear Mum's birthday and I did remember and call her up to wish her a happy birthday. We didn't end up doing anything as it turned out that instead of going out to dinner she had planned on cooking and hosting her own dinner. Even I thought this was a wretched idea of the same sort as having to tie your own noose for your own hanging. So instead I told her to stop tying her noose and that we would have dinner at our house for her birthday.

The counting was done, the calls were made and on Sunday after a good cleaning, rolling of the Katamari and cooking we found ourselves nearing the time of dining. Hosting a dinner engagement is quite an endeavor and no amount of reading in magazines can prepare you for it. Sure I've read that entertaining is like sex that the more you do it the better you get at it. If that's the case then SG and I are more like a sixteen year old couple in the back of a fogged up Civic groping and pawing for all we are worth.

SG is much better at this cooking for company than I am as from 3pm on she was juggling a 10+ pound ham, a potato casserole, brussel sprouts and rolls and somehow it all came out and none of it was cold. I in all of this provide more of a supportive role doing things of the cleaning nature along with setting tables, making appetizers and trying to stay out of the kitchen as much as possible. I will have to say that my table setting turned out to be quite the experience, more of an experience than setting a table should be. I kid you not we moved the napkins around three or four times before we got it right. Every time I walked into the dining room to put down a fork and knife I found a napkin on the wrong side. This went on until I went upstairs to read on the net about how you are supposed to do it. It's a napkin on your left with the fork and the knife on your right blade facing towards the plate followed by the spoon. Salad fork, soup spoon pha, who knows I stopped at that.

The single most defining moment of the night had to have been when while herding people into the dining room we found out that between our 3 1/2 degrees we forgot to count ourselves in the list of people eating. Total number just to site was 13 for the night. The supporting defining moment was when my grandfather asked to put some more gin into is martini glass at which point my grandmother told me that I shouldn't. My grandfather looked me in the eye and said... "Look who's talking to you." Hell's yeah, lush is just a part of my genetic makeup, God love Irish/Welsh/English/Germans who put this into my genes and God love booze.

After all is said and done it was a good time though I'm convinced that entertaining is like running any sort of event in that it is all an exercise in organized chaos. You can prepare as much as you want but entertaining like in battle it always seems that the shit will hit the fan the minute the first engagement occurs or the first guest shows up.