The 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.

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.