I can’t say that Rock of Ages is unique. I can say that Rock of Ages is unique for a video game. The humor and the plot are in the vein of Internet/Gaming/Fantasy/Etc. nerds, while the graphical style and animations are unabashedly reminiscent of Monty Python’s animation genius Terry Gilliam. In that way, it is not unique, because its inspirational sources can be easily and clearly identified. However, as a video game on a digital marketplace, it is something I have never personally been privileged enough to see, and as an Internet/Gaming/Fantasy/Etc. nerd and lifelong Monty Python mega-fan, that counts for an awful lot. Read the full story

Ghost Recon: Future Soldier’s chief weapon is fun…fun and creativity. Its two weapons are fun and creativity…and excellent graphics. Its three weapons are fun, creativity, and excellent graphics…and wonderful sound. Its four…no… Amongst its weapons… Amongst its weaponry are such elements as fun, creativity, excellent graphics, and wonderful sound. …I may have been watching too much Monty Python and playing too much Game Dev Story recently. That does not, however, make any of what I said less true. Read the full story

Developed by Reality Pump (TopWare Interactive), and released by publisher SouthPeak Games, Two Worlds II is a direct sequel to, you guessed it, the 2007 game, Two Worlds. Before reviewing Two Worlds II, however, I feel that something needs to be made clear; the most I played of the first Two Worlds game was the downloadable demo. This will be important later on. Read the full story

If you’re not a fan of Monty Python, then this article is not for you. Also, I like you just a little less now. Sorry. It’s nothing personal, you know; it’s just that your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries. Now go away or I shall taunt you a second time. Read the full story

Herein lies the lament of the lumberjack.  Before witnessing his woeful wailings, discern his dismal downfall:

Skip a bit to about 3:45 for the tale of the lumberjack, or watch the lovely story about the pet parrot first (a very touching story about a man and his Norwegian Blue).

I’ll give you a few moments to digest.

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All set?  Lovely.  Now you have seen the ignominious dashing of the lumberjack’s hopes and dreams against the cruel rocks of the Mounties.

I’m a lumberjack, but far from ok;

A lumberjack still, but not the same.

I had a good life, fulfilling and gay*

Until the day when the Mounties came.

The day was rare in its beauty and calm,

the Larch and Scots Pine standing majestic.

If only I had known what was to come,

I would not have cared for the aesthetic.

I burst into song, with joy in my heart,

For my best girl stood lovingly by me.

I was in my element, playing my part

Of the lumberjack that all expected to see.

The Mounties in red supported my song,

Repeating my boasts in lovely chorus.

I sang from my heart, and I sang strong,

For my love of my life and of the forest.

But as I sang my song, the tide did turn,

And all joy and happiness abandoned my soul.

The Mounties repeated my words with scorn,

Casting my heart into an abyssmal hole.

My best girl left, questioning my manhood,

While the Mounties laughed, laughed, laughed.

I saw their eyes through the dark of the woods,

And the judgement within them that I was daft.

The Mounties be damned, the bastard lot,

For destroying my life with their cruelty.

All that is left, which is all that I’ve got,

Is a lonely life of chopping down trees.

The only friends that remain are trees;

The Fir, the Redwood, the Maple and Pine.

Yet I no longer feel joy at what I must be,

As the duty of killing my only friends is mine.

*Happy, not the other one.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course.  Well, maybe a little bit the other one too.

Yet another life destroyed by the cruelty of the Mounties.  Spread the word.  Be on your guard.

-Because I said so

(No offense intended to any Mounties, family of Mounties, Mountie fans/supporters, or lumberjacks.)

I’ve had all I can stand, and I can’t stands no more!  How much can a man take before he finally accepts the sweet, warm embrace of madness?  What is a man’s breaking point?  Where is the line drawn?  How many straws until the last one?  How many weights must be thrust upon a man’s shoulders before he is heavy enough to break a camel’s back?  What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?

You may think the last one is irrelevant, but it is, in fact, the most relevant one of all.

For the answer, click here.