Horse Boners

[Megatron]

Since it is the one year anniversary of Fallout 3: Tactical Post Apocalyptic Action I have decided to write up a retrospective on whether or not the hardcore fallout fans have come to terms with their virgin daughter being ass fucked by all the bikers in town. Firstly let's take a trip down memoir lane, let's spin the hands of the clock back to February 2009. Obama had just got into the White House. There was an international corn shortage. The number one selling pop record was Lady Gaga and I, amongst other of the hardcore elite fallout fanbase, were planning a mass online protest. There would be poetry, drawings and a midnight mass outside of the Bethesda offices where we were to dress as Vault Dwellers and blast the minimalist bluegrass soundtrack of the original games through a boombox, just like they did back at Waco. But alas, dear reader, it wasn't meant to be. For some reason all of the petitions and eloquoint arguments on the anti-third side were simply brushed off by the big kahunas like radioactive goo!

And so, the original fans had a dilemma. Exactly like it was at the end of the vietnam war, the soldiers were thrown into a different world and not everybody made it. Many went off the rails, simply disappearing from the community as if none of it ever mattered. But it mattered to me. Instead of succumbing to the effects of some sort of nostalgic post-combat/gaming nerve disorder I marched to my nearest game shoppe and demanded that they serve me with a DVD of Fallout 3 post-haste, post-apocalyptica, anti-americana. Just as many of my other brothers and sisters did inside the community, I had sold my ass to the big boys.

Time passed. Summer came and went, along with the follys of x-box 360 and the leaves turned from the pleasant green into a violent ochre, a clue of things to come. The first of the expansion packs came out, this one about going back in time and being a long-haul truck driver in Alaska. More followed. One set in the lagoons of Florida. Another on a spaceship. Another where the entire game world was populated by zomboids and it was always night. I played them all frantically, my self-loathing battling against my need for Fallout as if two oceans roared against each other in the alternative dimensions of my psyche. Reality had become malleable as if I had smoked a whole bottle of dried cough medicine, for each flaw in the game I (helpfully) pointed out in the forums there was an equivalent 'mod' or 'expansion' to fix it. There were no longer concepts of electronic games or the related community. For myself, I had entered a world as if neither thing mattered at all. I was at the brink of unsanity, you could say I had tagged 'Bloody Mess' as that was the state my life was in over the winter. Heh.

Which brings us to the current climate. The space and time have aligned such that, there is a new game coming out; Fallout: New Las Vegas. FNLV is an amalgomom of all three fallout games overlayed onto each other like three panes of glass, perhaps the ultimate parody of my own private last great bastion against the forces of Generation Youtube. It wasn't just me either. Many other Louters had taken arms and found they had turned them on themselves. The living, breathing world and revolutionary AI were hard to ignore. Indeed, I felt similar to the character of 'Ugami' in my favourite anime 'Steampunk Alf'. For those unfamiliar with Ugami, he is a siamese twin warrior who is eventually cut in half by himself so he can fight the ultimate Evil. I shall let you deduce from my cunning metaphor what that makes me dear reader, but don't let me squash your nuts. Fallout still remains in my heart as my original love of life. Fallout 3 is the one one settles for and quietly hates whilst making love. Just keep saying “I hate you...I hate you...I hate you...�

[Blargh]

I . . .

ABSTAIN FROM HATRED.

[CloudNineGT]

There was an international corn shortage.