Title: Warhammer 40,000: Space Marine
Developer: Relic Games
Release: $49.99 (PC, Steam. Multiplat too.)
Suspend disbelief? Sir, there was never any belief to begin with
Yet another Warhammer game. I told you we’d never tired of this. We can’t. It’s a sad addiction that has poisoned our genes and is aggressively perpetuated by some crazy subliminal output that invades the meatspace. So what the hell, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ’em, right?
|It can only be armed by vigorous rubbing. It's called a "masturbomb"|
Where do I start with this one? Space Marine isn’t about video games. Space Marine, rather, is a video game. And not one of those “Oh yes, I know I’m a video game” video games, but rather one of those, “damn, I’m a video game?” video games. There is an undeniable sense of self-loathing in every moment, as if the game begrudges the fact that it must be played, and not simply be.
You want to play it, don’t you? Well, you are just that kind of person, aren’t you. Yes, you sad, narrow-minded creature. Play a game. How dare you.
How dare I.
Apparently, I should not want to play a game. Instead, I should want to read a picture book in where each page is turned by a thousand button presses, and there are only 10 pages.
|The future of rockabilly|
Honesty is important, people. Honesty is what makes the world go around. We can’t have promises without honesty, and we can’t have society without promises. I promise not to sleep with your wife, he says. I promise to keep a wife, he says. I promise not to bomb the shite out of your country, they say. I promise to repay that mortgage, Mr. banker. I promise, I promise, I promise.
I promise not to put doo in the cake that you bought from me under the assumption that it was not in fact a doo-cake.
|And this is for that time you cut in front of me at lunch!|
You tricked me, Relic. You tricked me not because Space Marine is a bad game or because it wasn’t as advertised, but because you made me pay for something that I didn’t want to pay for. You’re making me pay for things that I shouldn’t have to.
When I pay for something, a service, a product, a thing, anything, from you, or your friend or whoever is selling these things, then I expect something as a result. I am not paying for experimentation, or simply donating to your living trust, or simply giving you money because I am happy. That’s not how it works anymore, Relic. You’re a big boy now, so you have to play by the big boy rules. You can’t just go around and expect people to give you money while you test out things that aren’t worth that money. That’s…trickery.
|NO MORE BAD TOUCH|
It’s okay to try new things. Okay? Okay, Relic? I’m not saying you should stop experimenting or honing your skills or training up something new, okay? Let’s get this straight. But it’s not okay to do it on my dime, on my time. That’s not okay. You want to try your hand at some deep fictional storytelling with a moral message? Fine, but not on my dime. You want to try your hand at complex level design in third-person shooter design? Admirable, but not on my dime. You want to create emotional climaxes with quick-time events that help to summarize and conclude a difficult experience? Good! But not on my dime.
Relic, you’ve got to face facts here. There are some things you’re good at, and some things you’re not. That’s okay. It’s okay to be mediocre at some things. Okay? IT’S OKAY. That just means that when you release a major product, leave out those things. And if you have to lower the price, fine. Good, even. It’s okay. I won’t hate you. No one will (well, maybe your publisher will). BUT. BUT BUT BUT
|You've got to use BOTH HANDS|
When you take those mediocre things and try to hide them behind those spectacular things (and do so miserably) and then charge me FULL PRICE for a product that contains both of these things such that the mediocre things appear (shoddily hid as they are) to be dull, boring, shit-skidmarks in comparison to the things you know you are good at, you are making me eat a doo-cake. YOU ARE MAKING ME EAT A CAKE FILLED WITH DOO.
Why are you making me? Because I have paid for it. I have placed my trust in your promises; in the things you and I know you do best. And you have taken that trust and thrust it through my heart in the form of a deadly shards made of doo, hidden inside a cake, which I have ingested, because by god, I hate wasting money.
|See? That's all the doo flying out of him|
Relic. No more doo, please. I want to trust you. Hear me? I want to trust you. In fact, I know I can trust you because slaughtering hordes of orcs and chaos marines online is brilliant and eternally satisfying and addictive. But please. PLEASE.
NO MORE CAKES FILLED WITH DOO.