A tale of ignorance.

Let me paint you a picture dear readers.

I recently tried my best to swear off purchasing anything from EB Games. The overpricing on their games was enough to turn me off but occasionally, I do drop in from time to time to look at the older, cheaper Ps2 games and such. Just yesterday, I walked through the doors on a mission to track down any decent Gamecube titles. Luckily, this particular store had quite a few in stock and excitedly, I perused their small collection. As I was inspecting, I saw this scene unfold...


INT. DAY

A suburban mother and father approach the counter with a happy and excited young boy in tow. In the mother's hand, is a Nintendo Wii. She plonks it on the counter.

MOTHER

Yeah, um I want ah, the get fit game.

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EB CLERK

You mean Wii Fit?

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MOTHER

(blank stare)

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EB CLERK

This one?

Clerk holds up Wii Fit box.

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MOTHER

Yep. How much?

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EB CLERK

You'll need controllers for the Wii.

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MOTHER

(blank stare)

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EB CLERK

If you want to play any games, you'll need these.

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Clerk produces both Wii Remote and Nunchuck controllers.

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MOTHER

(blank stare)

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EB CLERK

You play the games with these two controllers. Like this.

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Clerk gives brief demonstration of how to hold controllers. The young boy is excited. The mother looks down at another product next to the counter.

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MOTHER

What about that?

Mother points to cheap 7-in-1 Nintendo Wii accessories box. On the front of the packet are pictures of the contents including tennis racket attachment, light gun attachment & steering wheel attachment.

EB CLERK

Yes, you could get that. That's for all the sports games and you could probably use them in other games.

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MOTHER

Well, I won't get those. (points to controllers) I'll get this instead (points to accessories pack).

EB CLERK

Uh. Well, those are just accessories. They're just for the controllers to fit into. You'll actually need these controllers to play anything on the Wii.

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MOTHER

(blank stare)

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EB CLERK

The accessories are just pieces of plastic.

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MOTHER

(exasperated) Okay right. Well, just those then.

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EB CLERK

Okay.

Purchase is made. Young boy is excited. Father reaches for purchases.

EB CLERK

Wii Fit is really fun. You might actually find yourself playing it.

MOTHER

(blank stare)

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FATHER

(slightly insulted) Yeah, I don't think so.

Mother and father leave. Young boy runs behind trying his best to look in the bags.

Now, I want to make a point here. Currently at EB Games, the Nintendo Wii console retails for a price of $399.95. With a copy of Wii Fit thrown in (priced at $149.95), the total price comes to about $550.00.

Think about this for a minute. When was the last time you spent $550? And on top of that, when was the last time you spent $550 with a 'yeah whatever' attitude towards the purchase?

It was obvious these parents could care less about this product but were happy enough to shell out hundreds of dollars for it. Fascinating. They didn't look like millionaires.

In all seriousness, the mother and father were clueless scum. The kind of blissfully ignorant parent who has bugger-all idea about what their child was so excited about. The gaming consoles will only garner attention when they're looking for something to blame when their ignored, lonely and depressed child flips out and rebels against them as a result of their ineffectual parenting skills. For Christ's sake, the father was actually pissed off that the clerk suggested that he may enjoy playing video games. And not even proper video games! Just fucking Wii Fit!

Keep your eye on the news for a 'Nintendo's Wii Fit Turns Child Into Monster' story.

My quest for cheap, uncut violence - Part 5

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I have succeeded. And it feels good.

My copy of Grand Theft Auto IV came in the mail the other day, fresh from overseas. I could hardly believe it when I saw the packaging. Inspecting the padded envelope, I saw a customs sticker that had a section to write a description of the contents. It only read one word, written hastily in pen:

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GAME

So there you have it. No bother from Customs. No chance of them lumping me in with pornographers and pedophiles. It was all just fucking smoke. Just an empty threat thrown about on the internet that amounted to nothing. Boo sucks to you, OFLC.

The game itself? Everything I thought it would be. And more. Here's just one example:

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Driving along in my luxury sedan, I was happy enough just to take in the sights of Liberty City and listen to my friendly GPS voice ("in 100 yards, turn left") guide me through the streets. Suddenly my mobile phone rang. I brought it up on the screen and it said it was Little Jacob calling. Little Jacob was a rastafarian gangster who I had bonded with a few days earlier after helping him gun down a couple of rival drug dealers. I answered the call. Even though I could only understand a few words of his thick Jamaician accent, I eventually realised he wanted to go and play darts with me at a bar up north. I accepted and said I'd pick him up in an hour. I put the phone away and began to map out my GPS route to his house. While I was plotting my course, I lost control of my car and sideswiped a police cruiser that was waiting at the lights. His siren blared and the chase was on. I floored it. The sedan I was driving handled pretty well around corners but the traffic was heavy as it was rush hour. Time to take to the back alleys. Another police car had joined the chase and both were right on my back bumper. At this point, I knew the meeting with Jacob would have to wait. With one hand on the wheel and one eye on the road, I brought up my mobile and scrolled through the phonebook to his number. I drove through a few red lights and the police sirens blared behind me as Jacob picked up the phone. I apologised and said I wouldn't be able to make darts right now. His accent was indecipherable, but his tone suggested it was okay. I hung up and drove into a nearby park, still at top speed. One clip of a park bench and the car was totalled, rolling end over end. I ran on foot. Running across a busy freeway, I did my best to hide behind a small tenement building until the police lost track of me. When I was sure the coast was clear, I stood up and walked calmly down the street. I saw a nice blue SUV parked on the opposite side of the street so I hotfooted it across, elbowed the window and hotwired the engine. Luckily the owner hadn't installed an alarm. Sitting in the drivers seat with the engine running, I called Jacob back and suggested a game of darts now that everything had calmed down. And I soundly defeated him too. By forty points.

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None of what I did was part of any scripted mission. You could play the game for years and not come across these series of events. It was just something that happened.

How to test your rose-coloured glasses.

When you are approaching middle-age, you start to allow yourself to reflect on your past more and more. Your childhood becomes a collection of memories laced with happiness, excitement and joy. The 1980s transforms itself into an innocent time of new experiences and warm, comfy nostalgia. Every object and experience you had as a younger person becomes somehow brighter and more enjoyable than their modern-day equivalent. Right?

Wrong.

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All that bullshit can go jump in a lake. Our memory naturally filters out all the crap and leaves the good stuff. And because it is essentially an evil facility in our brain, it even goes so far as to skew the good memories into great ones. So basically, as you remember it, your childhood contained ten to fifteen years of the best days of your life.

Well guess what? You've been swindled. Your childhood was probably contained average to below-average entertainment and glee. The 1980s was a decade filled with government oppression, corporate greed and disgusting fashion. The things you held dear when you were a child were huge clunky turds of little to no importance. I'll explain...

Here now is a series of tests involving a list of things that you probably thought to be 'wicked-awesome' back in the day, but when you stare them dead in the eye in the light of day, they're a primitive mish-mash of crap not even worth setting on fire. And let's begin...

1. THE MOVIE 'BLOODSPORT'

Released in 1988, this breakthrough film for the cocaine-hoovering, wife-beating steroid-conveyance that was Jean Claude Van Damme had everything you could hope for from a film portraying life in Hong Kong's underground deathmatch circuit. In the infamous tournament of Kumite, American soldier Frank Dux competes against a slew of fighters of various sizes and nationalities on his way to conquer the tournament and take the title of 'Hard-As-Nails Motherfucker Who Kicks Much Ass'. But is it as good as you remember? Let's find out...

First test

Your child self:

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Whoa! He looks gnarly. I bet he could kick the crap out of anyone! What are all these Asian dudes in business suits yelling about? Wow! Look at the size of that guy's chest. He's got boobies! Hahaha! Why does that blonde girl keep whinging about Van Damme being hurt? He's not gonna get hurt! He's Van Damme lady! Here's the big chested guy again. He must be the bad guy. Ouch! He just broke that guy's leg! Eww! The bone came out! Watch out Van Damme! Maybe that girl was right. Why did they let a monkey into the tournament? Oh, here we go! Van Damme versus the bad guy! Oh no, he's blinded Van Damme! That cheater! That's not fair! Van Damme must be hurt because he keeps yelling. And yelling. And yelling. Oh wow, he's fighting by feeling. He doesn't need eyes! He's won! Radical! That movie rules!

Your adult self:

Um, so Van Damme is supposed to be American? Riiiight, since I can hardly understand what he's saying, I'll just ignore that bit. Holy shit, is that future Academy Award winner Forest Whitaker? I'm sorry, are we supposed to believe this fat drunken truck driver would stand a chance in this tournament? What the fuck is Van Damme saying? Speak English! It would actually be good if there was a script to this piece of shit. It's just fight after fight after fight... Yeah, okay we get it, Van Damme - you're very good at doing the splits! Are we at least gonna see the blonde girl take her top off? That broken leg was just a bit of balsa wood sticky taped to his shin! Did they spend all of ten bucks on that effect? Why did they let a monkey into the tournament? Here's the final fight then. About time. Christ, could Van Damme scream any more? Every time he moves any part of his body, he's all like 'YAAAARRRRGGHHHH!!!!'. Yeah, right! What bullshit! He wins the tournament blind? God, that movie sucked ass!

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2. THE TV SHOW 'THE A-TEAM'

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'In 1972, a crack commando unit was sent to prison by a military court for a crime they didn't commit. These men promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Los Angeles underground. Today, still wanted by the government, they survive as soldiers of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire... The A-Team.'

And so began the 1983-1986 misadventures of an old codger, a wrestler, a gigolo lounge singer and a mental patient. Or as millions knew them - Smith, Baracus, Face and Murdock. Performing jobs nobody else would do, these four misfits spent every week in car chases, gunfights and generally being bad-ass as humanly possible. But were they 'the shit' or just 'shit'?

Second test

Your child self:

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I wouldn't want to mess with the coloured, I mean...black guy. He looks mean! Cooool! I want that van with the red stripe! That Murdock guy is funny! Yeah, shutup fool! Hahaha! You evil drug dealer dude! Don't mess with The A-Team! Oh wow, this car chase is totally tubular! I wish I want to be one of these guys. I want to join The A-Team! They're so rad! Face better watch out her husband doesn't find out! How old is Hannibal? He looks ninety! Wow, yeah! Shoot that guy Hannibal! Punch that dude out, B.A.! I wonder what they'll be doing next week? I can't wait!

Your adult self:

What? Face and Murdock were Vietnam veterans? Because they look exactly like grizzled ex-soldiers! What a crock of shit. And what the hell to these four fuckups do for money? They can't be fully employed by thinktanks and covert police units 365 days a year! They wouldn't have enough revenue to pay a weeks rent. They're just homeless bums with guns! God, will someone hurry up and shoot someone? You've all got a million firearms but nobody ever gets shot! What's that about? How exactly is B.A. Baracus supposed to be an agile solider with all that shit around his neck? He wouldn't be able to climb a flight of stairs, much less scoot over the hood of a car. The script is terrible! Every week is another drug lord! Bullshit! Cooool! I want that van with the red stripe!

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3. THE VIDEO GAME 'DOUBLE DRAGON'

Otherwise known as 'The Devourer Of 20c Coins'. Street gangs. Street violence. Streets. That's all this game had to offer and it was enough. You and your brother (2-player) had to beat seven shades of shit out of a city full of scumbags in order to prove your manliness to an ineffectual and promiscuous skank who was stupid enough to get kidnapped by a bunch of gangbangers who needed their asses handed to them anyway. Was it worth it?

Third test

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Your child self:

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Oh yeah! I'm gonna beat you good for stealing my girl. Wow! Look how good the graphics are! Yeah, you scum! I'll knee you in the head! Oooh, a baseball bat, now you're in trouble! Aaah, a big guy came through the wall! Ouch, a chick with a whip! Take that, lady! Wow, I'm getting good at this game! Cool! I can climb the ladder and drop down on these guys! Watch out for the dynamite! Nobody can beat me! Bring it on! Oh no! We have to fight each other! Noooo!

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Your adult self:

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What am I looking at? I can't even make out which one of these blocky sprites I'm supposed to be controlling. Speaking of controls, are they meant for Double Dragon players or fucking retards? Okay, here's some bitch with a whip. Ah, she hit me! Ah, she hit me! You bitch, come here! Ah, she hit me! So, there's only three moves for this game! Oh wait a minute - elbow, elbow, elbow, elbow, elbow, elbow. Okay, there's a bridge with a gap in the middle, I'll just jump over - fuck! I fell in the river. Let's try again. And jump - fuck! Jump - fuck! Jump over the bridge you usless prick! Fuck! FUCK! I hate my life! I'd rather be dead than subject myself to any more of this torture! Here, look at this! It's not so funny when I've got a gun now is it? Goodbye cruel world! BLAM!

My quest for cheap, uncut violence - Part 4

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Uncut! Cheap! On Its Way To Me!

Well, life is sweet. After many wrong turns and false leads, I have one complete copy of Grand Theft Auto IV being sent to me from the merry old isle of England.

PAL region? Check!

Almost $40 cheaper than the Australian version? Check!

The OFLC circumvented and given the big old two-finger salute? Check!

The online store Sendit.com in the UK (recommended by a good friend of mine) has been my saviour. In the end I'm glad I didn't buy it from Ebay - who knows what kind of psycho you could deal with. And if you're getting the real thing.

Now the bad news. Sendit.com are currently out of stock. But I'm not allowing myself to panic. They'll re-stock within the week and then ship my copy to me so everything's fine. It's my fault really, for leaving it this late. Oh well I'm not worried. I'm quite happy with the turnout. I've heard no more talk about Australian customs confiscating the game so as I suspected, that was all scare-mongering bullshit. And according to early reports, GTAIV is the highest selling game of all time already. No real surprise.

On a serious note, I want to talk about the reason I went through this malarkey just for a video game. Well, there's two reasons:

1. The Australian government is embarassing. 95% of the western world are selling this game as it was intended without censorship. Even China, Singapore and United Arab Emirates are more lenient than the outdated laws set by the OFLC. I refuse to bow to this narrow minded view that video games are harmful to anyone. Every time there's a school shooting or a child goes beserk against their parents, video games are inevitably brought into the frame by politicians and attention seekers who believe all people who play these games are ten years old and all games are either Frogger or Barbie Horse Adventures. Australia desperately needs an R18+ classification for video games just like films, books and DVDs. Even just for the simple reason of not being ridiculed by the rest of the world. Easter Island is laughing at our outdated laws!

2. The game itself. The open world gameplay of the Grand Theft Auto series has been unparalled for years. Its fun. Loads of fun. Wanna drive around making money as a cabbie? You can do it. Wanna fly a helicopter around the city and basejump off every tall building? You can do it. Wanna pimp out your car? Speed around on a motorbike? Play basketball? Become a feared crime boss? You can do it all. Whenever you want, however you want. The first time I played GTA3, it wasn't long before I was sitting in an ambulance on a cliff edge watching the sunrise while listening to reggae music after a full night of transporting injured citizens all over the city to the downtown hospital. And the point is, I didn't have to. It wasn't an integral part of the game. I just felt like doing it.

So, I wait. Even though I danced a jig after ordering the game (really, I did), I won't breathe that sigh of relief until I finally fire up the game in my 360 and once again, fall into that wonderful world of Liberty City.

And break into the nearest car, kill the first hooker I see and then mow down a bunch of cops.