VIOLATING THE GENEVA CONVENTION HAS NEVER BEEN SO MUCH FUN

February 25th, 2007 at 12:36 pm | Gaming

Many a year ago, I used to play a game over at Nate‘s house called Night Raid. It was a relatively simple game, but very fun. You-as-the-character sit in a little turret, and try to kill all the paratroopers before they land on the ground and overrun your turret. That’s it.

What makes it so entertaining is the little touches of humor, and the gleeful carnage you can inflict. You can shoot out a paratrooper’s parachute, sending his flailing body to splat upon the ground, or you can pop the paratrooper himself, turning him into so much pixelated chunky salsa. Or you can simply destroy the warplanes that drop off the paratroopers. Debris from these planes can also kill soldiers on the ground. The humor comes from the Intermissions between each round. A plane will fly over head with a banner trailing, advising you to order from Apogee Games; or, if a lone paratrooper remains alive on the ground, a UFO will come and beam him up.

Okay, so that’s not really that funny. But. What is funny, what is goddamn hilarious, is the pizza delivery intermission. A pizza van navigates this war-torn land to deliver a pizza to our intrepid turret guy (Turreteer?). This delivery fellow must be really dedicated to doing his job, risking death and dismemberment to deliver a fucking pizza. Or he’s retarded. Which may in fact be true, for when he comes up to the turret door and says, “Pizza,” he sounds kind of like Corky from television’s “Life Goes On.” This sound effect alone use to send Nate and I’s thirteen-year-old counterparts into fits of adolescent giggling. *Sniff*. Ah, the memories.

Incidentally, you can download the shareware version of the game here. Let me know what you think, or if anyone else remembers the game.

JAB

THE REASON WHY SCIENCE WILL ALWAYS TRUMP FAITH

February 18th, 2007 at 9:50 pm | Crazy Internets

 Fuckin' A

(Via WellingtonGrey.net.)

EMO AT WORK

February 14th, 2007 at 7:46 am | Daylog

I’m currently sitting in the office, alone, waiting for the phones to start ringing off the hook. Everyone is either stuck at home, or, like one woman whose kids’ daycare is closed, stuck with her kids. Curse my overly efficient snowblower!

Now I wish I hadn’t left my book in the car. Sure, I could go and get it, but since the parking lot hasn’t been completely cleared yet, I am parked way in the back, where it is clear. And I’m lazy, so I don’t especially feel like trundling through the snow. Again.

Sigh. ‘Tis a tired, lonely existence I lead . . .

JAB

THEY CALL HIM THE ROCKETEER

February 13th, 2007 at 7:58 pm | Crazy Internets

All he needs is a cooler-looking helmet.

JAB

SOFTLY AS THE APPLES FALL

February 11th, 2007 at 5:58 pm | Daylog

It’s been some time. A “minute” even. Don’t know if this means I’m back for good, but for the moment (not to be confused with a “minute”) I’m here. Comments are currently enabled for this entry only. After getting hit with nearly a thousand pieces of spam a day, every day, I said fuck it, and disabled comments. In the near future I’ll be registering with TypeKey and you can comment that way. For now, go nuts on this entry, if you like.

More later.

JAB

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