God of What?

WAR mother fucker. As in the video game. No, I’m not turning this into a video game blog; but I am talking about games today. Piss me off though and I’ll go fan boy so fast on you jerks. . . .

My freshly acquired copy of God of War: Chains of Olympus (never mind how) has been all I’ve been playing on my PSP, or Portable Playstation for you less in The Know—Sony’s version of the Gameboy for those of in complete boycott of The Know. We also call it a potty-station.

I grew up along side video games, starting with an Atari, eventually a NES and so on up the ladder. They were like siblings except they weren’t annoying and demanded nothing in return for the countless hours of joy they imparted. So, nothing like sibling. I guess they were more like the booty call you can make day or night, sober or drunk.

Would I have loved them less with more attentive, involved parents than the alcoholics that raised me? Who cares! Video games rock. If anything, I’m thankful for what I’ll just call an alternative childhood that let me spend as many hours as I wanted playing video games.

My interest waned when I started college. There were games out that I knew I should be drooling over—but I just wasn’t. I never stopped playing, but I wasn’t buying more than three of four games year.My interest has been slowly regaining steam, and I’m getting excited about playing fun games again. If I could stop time for a month I think I could get through much of the days playing catch up with games (I’d split my time with reading).

Back to God of War—if you like this franchise and you don’t have a PSP—sucks to be you! This game fucking rocks. I haven’t beaten it yet, but I will. Which is actually saying a lot as I tend to beat games eventually. Meaning, in the course of two years I’ll stop playing, switch games, and eventually come back and show the final boss I rule.

Something about the God of War games suck you in. When I finally got a copy of God of War (the first one) I remember being impressed with the intuitive control style—it was easy to pick up and it wasn’t long before I was doing all the attacks without really thinking them. The great boss fights, the blood and gore were a bonus, as were the naked chicks—Mrs. Bastard hadn’t seen video game tits before, so she was doubly happy.

That’s another thing about the series; people are entertained by simply watching you play—my wife bought the sequel for me for just this reason. Though, most my friends, including my wife, are the kind of gamer who will admit what you are playing looks fun but will refuse to even try it.

The story is a good one, and for a video game it’s a really good one. It helps propel you along through the game, so you’re killing endless bad guys with the quickness for a reason, not just to see tits.

One good quality all but losing interests in video games is I was able to step back and gain a sense of patience. Games that cost $40 today drop to $20 in a year. There are enough good games I’ve missed that I have a cushion, a bit of padding for both my tolerance for bad games (as they get weeded out by suckers) and my bank account.