Alright, a few weeks ago I went to Horrorhound Weekend (video recap of that right here if you’re curious). After running around a convention centered solely around all things terrifying, it got me thinking that I hadn’t really played a good survival horror game in a while. After hitting a local game store with my friends, we ended up picking up Dead Island and the Silent Hill HD Collection which includes Silent Hill 2 and 3 with updated graphics. So how did each fare as I dived back into the world of horror? Read on. Dead Island Dead Island was released in September 2011 as a zombie-fest that takes place on a fictional island of Banoi at a resort hotel not too far from Papua New Guinea. It’s an action-RPG with a focus on melee combat rather than firearms, or at least it would seem that way considering that out of the four characters you can choose at the onset only one is devoted to firearms while the other three specialize in blade weapons, blunt weapons, and thrown. Locked in a safe room with a handful of other survivors, it’s your job to work together and find out what’s going on and stay alive in the process. From a presentation standpoint Dead Island‘s environments are immersive and beautiful. The island locale is refreshing considering most zombie games put you in dank, derelict locations- but it’s not all sunsets and margaritas either; There are plenty of dark and foreboding locations to explore around the island and I’ll admit, even being a veteran to the genre Dead Island left me with chills in spots. Combat can feel a bit disjointed when using melee weapons, but for the most part the action doesn’t miss a beat. Throw in a...
Summer Movie Wrap Up – I Didn’t See Any – You Can’t Make Me [California Seething]...
posted by Eric Sims
If you ask me, I blame the Prius. Recently, a big name celebrity came to see a show at the theatre where I work. For security and convenience reasons, we allowed him to park in the loading zone in front of the theatre rather than the slightly farther Peon Lot. Since this isn’t exactly legal, I arranged with his people (He has people. I want people! Even midgets would be fine. Do they work cheap? Can I get two for the price of one? I could stack them on top of each other, put them in a really long trench coat and pretend they are a super-tall publicist named KiKi. That would get me in to Sky Bar) that I would hold on to his car keys and watch his car while he was watching the show- never mind the fact that giving me car keys is about as useful as handing a bone to a monkey and telling it to drive the big black monolith around the block in case the cops come. You’re just going to end up with a smashed cow-skull and a big parking ticket. As I waited for him, I fantasized about the sort of supercar that would soon be at my disposal. Certainly, it would be some kind of Italian Dream Machine- a Maserati or Lamborghini or some other juicy word that sounds like food but isn’t food but still makes you drool like lasagna made out of money. A car designed to look like a spaceship if spaceships were designed to look like naked ladies (NOTE TO NASA: Next time, hire Italian designers. Endeavor is whatever but Endeavero is magnifico!!!) Maybe I would slip inside and sit behind the wheel in the tan leather interior all snug...