Diablo III – It’s prettay prettay prettay prettay . . . good

Diablo IIIThe American gaming male automatically degenerated into an alternating cycle of hardcore gaming and furious, repeated bouts of masturbation Tuesday after Mother Blizzard released her tepid seed into the yawning, fertile womb of jilted fantasy gamers who have already seen enough WoW expansions to make General Patreus reconsider an extensive Iraq strategy.

The most celebrated feature of the game thus far is that in Diablo III, you’re no longer a slave to reading. Audio lore gives you experience points as you continue about your quest by reading your own journal entries to you. No longer will gamers groan at the sight of glowing books which fall open into the floor in front of them.

Diablo III journals are now jam-packed full of game lore you never cared about before, but sounds really cool coming through your speakers as you ransack the libraries where you found it, like an SS squado looking for ze papers.

Diablo III is well-optimized to run on computers dating all the way back to 2007, when Barack Obama was busy hiring the white collar criminals responsible for America’s economic collapse onto his financial planning committees. Those were shitty computers back then, but they will still run Diablo III at medium settings and you won’t feel like the poor kid whose left light up sneaker stopped working a week in because you did the Macarena too hard. Good luck with Minecraft, though. NASA is still working on a PC capable of running it at maximum render distance.

The NSA supercomputer might be able to blanket the United States with Constitutional rights violations, but it still can't keep up with Tribes: Ascend
The NSA supercomputer might be able to blanket the United States with Constitutional rights violations, but it still can't keep up with Tribes: Ascend.

Many new games push medium-rated hardware beyond their limits, unreasonably so. Recommended specs if you want to run Tribes: Ascend, for example, requires that your computer be qualified to run CERN supercollider calculations as theorized having taken place on the varied surfaces of distant asteroids, providing NASA had a budget and Hi-Rez Studios wasn’t run by Jews hell-bent on absorbing it.

Diablo III has you shooting the shit out of Thriller extras with both hands; it even has rapid-fire drawstring longbows which makes no sense at all, except magic. Instead of magic, however, the Demon Hunter – like chronicle.su – balances hate with discipline to land combination attacks of rippling snarefuck and piercing arrows of godlessness.

The storyline enlists you – the main character, whoever you are – to assist Leah with various quests and, without raping her, collaborate with this old Nick Oliveri-looking dude to own up on some shit-eating demons. You even get to help a guy kill his wife who, inexplicably, is a mini-boss loaded to the tits with rare magical items and gold. She’s a sweetheart, though. Play to find out why.

I’m about to.

It’s $60. The first coolguy to leave us a comment on this review (with your email in the appropriate field) gets an official chronicle.su Diablo III guest pass providing free access to early gameplay.

Cars 2 Review – Where Were The People?

CARS - MATER
GIT R DUN!

I watched Cars 2 tonight. It was better than the first one, which contained faggoty overtones of Podunk nostalgia.

Cars 2 was less celebratory of self-imposed limitations and even called out Mater & his voice actor Larry the Cable Guy’s act of ignorance by pointing out how the audience is too busy laughing at his act to realize he’s not really a good ol’ boy like them is. In Mater’s case, his character really was that dumb. But in “Larry’s” case, he’s not.

What I liked about Cars 2 was all the stereotypes. They had Asians, Mexicans, Italians – Russians named Ivan – all down pat. They even added a “black” car – an old hooptie that sounded like a doped-up Wanda Sykes or something. It was my pleasure to watch this movie in the white-bred Appalachian community of Waynesville, North Carolina (right outside of Clyde, near Canton, for those of you who need a point of reference) and they loved that sista-car. She was funny, for a nigger.

Cars 2 is NOT for children. That is, unless you like exposing your children to banality and mediocrity while rednecks clap for the theater screen. “That was too much!” As Mater boosts around London with rocket boosters.

Now that I think more about Mater, maybe Cars 2 was a celebration of good-natured ignorance after all. He was instructed not to change even if he is seen as an embarrassment to the entire world: all but the Car Citizens of defunct Radiator Springs located along an obsolete desert stretch of Route 66.

Mater won the hottest bitchin’-ass car featured in the entire movie – a British spy technician luxury sports car with medium-sized car tits and a sultry voice actress who is assertive and qualified, but not quite as domineering as the weakest male character in the film.

Despite all the gender and racial stereotyping, and in spite of the product placement and references to TV commercials, I could still relate to the storytelling found in Cars 2, until I realized one thing: I could not connect, emotionally, to the characters or the plot-line. That’s because there are no fucking people.

Who drives the cars? Why do they construct buildings? Are there car beds in Car Tokyo in the Car Apartments and what about the Car Churches? Is there a Car God? There was a Car Pope in Cars 2. But not one single human being. So why do the cars speak different languages in different accents? Did the cars evolve over many hundreds of thousands, or even millions of years, to develop their own languages and regional dialects? Was there a time in Cars history when the Cars had not yet invented their parts because they had not yet even mastered stone tools?

Finally. I’m going to ask this one more time. Where were all the fucking people?

And now for Dan Whitney, before he became “Larry the Cable Guy!”

Modern Warfare 2: "If this is war, I wanna be there!"

Full Metal Jacket: Modern Warfare 2Some time has passed since the release of Infinity Ward’s newest installment in the reluctantly-named Call of Duty series. This is why the Elf Wax Times has gone untouched for one week, with the exception of the new Lightning Ticker which adorns our beloved header. The Lightning Ticker is based on the Elf Waxian concept of the “Lightning Study,” currently in production at Lebal Drocer Laboratories, involving only a glance at raw facts and data as a means for writing an informed report. You’re welcome.

Our entrenched reporter, Viet Zam, has been in Modern Warfare 2 since it spawned November 10. Having received no contact from him in 72 hours, he is presumed dead.

The staff writers, the Media Mogul himself, Cold Hard Truth, billb(o), and Noah [biblical figure], have concluded that Modern Warfare 2 on Playstation 3 is the Official Game of The Elf Wax Times, and so should you. We’ve rated the game 10/10 and found that it contains nothing harmful to society or individuals unless ground into a fine dust and inhaled.

The only real problem with the game is that it keeps us from bringing you the truth. But, doesn’t that figuratively stand for truth? Shit, we’d be liars just by printing something. You don’t want to read something we didn’t want to write, and we don’t want to write shit you don’t wish to read, so we hope you’re enjoying Modern Warfare 2 as much as we are here at The Elf Wax Times office.

Being too busy playing MW2 to review, we decided to get some outside help on this one. YouTube provides a service for us all, and Viacom. Check out what our guest critic had to say about the game:

“Call of Duty 4 and 5 is okay, but fuck it…I was expectin’ it to be like Call of Duty  5 or better, better than fuckin’ better things, but shit!”

Seventeen hours straight
Seventeen hours straight

A Review of Pokemon 8: Lucario and the Mystery of Mew (or something like that)

I awoke on New Years day to the usual yammering of Cartoon Network’s early morning programming. I stood up to deactivate the horrible noises, when I realized I was in the guest bedroom. How drunk had I been last night? I forgot. How’d I get home? Man, I had no answers, except I knew I was thirsty. Stumbling to the fridge, waves of nausea coarsed through my whole body. I found nothing but Orange Juice and quickly finished what was left of the container. I felt my brain inside my skull, screaming to get out. I threw the empty box across the room and missed the trash can completely. I returned to my room, and as I sat down, a second, much more intense wave of nausea came over me. Quickly thinking, I packed a gravity bong. Weed cures nausea, and maybe numb the throbbing inside my skull, at least that was what I was thinking. I was able to inhale half of the bong and then cough and puke into the water bucket at the same time. Of course I wasn’t done, all the OJ had to go. When the watery yellow vomit was all over the ground at the foot of my deck, I started to dry heave for about 10 minutes. Teary-eyed, half stoned, and worse off than I was before, it was all I could do to sip on a glass of water and watch the storyline of Pokemon 8 unfold before my eyes. At least vomiting off my deck made me feel relieved after the dry heaving.
Pokemon 8:
It started in the distant past, with some sort of magic called Aura (get this…everyone has a slightly different Aura). I was able to halfway sleep through the first part. There’s this Pokemon named Lucario, and Ash unseals him or something, and Lucario’s a dick and doesn’t trust anybody after being sealed away for so long, even though he doesn’t even know why he was sealed away. Meanwhile, Mew, Meowth, and Pikachu are hanging out in the Tree of Beginning. Why? I don’t know. You find out later that Mew and the Tree actually share their consciousness, which is interesting. As Ash travels to the tree with Lucario and a band of friends, they gain eachothers trust. When they arrive, the tree begins attacking Lucario and Ash. Everyone is killed who is not a Pokemon. Good job, Mew. Mew then revives everyone back to life with no effort, since he controls the tree. But oops! The tree’s immune reaction was too strong, and will kill everyone unless someone saves it with the power of Aura. And to do that, apparently you have to be trapped in some sort of crystal or something forever. I felt no remorse for these Pokemon because every conflict in the movie was created solely by Mew’s complete negligence. I give the vomit splattering on the ground one star and Pokemon 8 a half of a star.