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  • Castlevania III: Dracula's Reign Ends, Sypha's Baby Factory Opens

    When I was a kid, I ate crayons while I was supposed to be tested for giftedness, I lost interest in achieving the honour roll when I found out it wasn't covered with sticky frosting, and I could never understand why grown-ups got so uppity if I was wearing my shirt backwards (still can't). But I finished Castlevania III all by myself, without cheating, and I'm still damn proud of that. It remains one of about two games both my husband and I played as kids, but only I've completed.

    I've only finished the game with Grant as my aide, mind you. Even my childlike stupidity and gullibility had its limits. “Ha ha,” I said as I watched the credits scroll, “I am never doing this again!”

    Ah, but it looks like I will with the help of the Virtual Console. Once I get my platforming legs back, I'd like to try and finish the game with Sypha. I've seen her ending already thanks to the modern magic of YouTube, but it still fascinates me. The second Dracula dies, the schmatte covering Sypha's head falls off on cue and Trevor's like, “Holy shit, Imma touch this bitch.” And he does.

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  • Sony Might Just Hate You

    Even before the company’s dramatic fall from grace, there has been a number of reasons a discerning individual might think that Sony hates them. The original Playstation had a failure rate to challenge the Xbox 360’s and the first DualShock controller didn’t become a pack-in with the system for months after its release. The Playstation 2 launched at a pricey $299 and that price held until May of 2002 when Sony suddenly and without forewarning dropped it to $199, leaving thousands of gamers out a hundred bucks when a simple press release could have saved them the trouble. The PSP launched and its screen was plagued by dead pixels and the Playstation 3 cost half a grand at the cheapest when it launched in ’06. One day, they’re committed to backwards compatibility and against rumble in controllers, and the next they’re asking you drop sixty smackers on a controller that shakes and backwards compatibility is for the birds. Yep. Sony hates you. Sony hates all of us.

    Well, today, Sony hates your potential creativity.

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  • Alternate Soundtrack: Castlevania III vs Bush

    So there's this election around the corner, right? All about choosing a new President for the United States or whatever, and I keep hearing people complain about how after this election they won't be able to rant about how much they hate Bush anymore. Personally I don't understand where they're coming from. I, for one, love Bush. Those guys rocked so hard throughout the 1990's and early 00's and anyone who hates on them just can't be my friend anymore.

    I've always been particularly smitten with their 1996 sophomore record Razorblade Suitcase, an emotionally dense powerhouse of crunched guitars, squealing feedback and ominous negative space. This album cries out for monsters, as demonstrated in the music videos for singles "Greedy Fly" and "Mouth", and monsters it shall receive in the form of Konami's 1990 classic Castlevania III: Dracula's Curse for the Nintendo Entertainment System.

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  • Video Games and Discipline: You're Doing It Wrong

    Just so we're clear: I'm not referring to using gold-plated copies of Zelda II for kinky spanking activities.

    (Everybody gets up and leaves, muttering disappointedly)

    I was usually a pretty good kid. With my big blue eyes and dark pigtails, nobody suspected any trouble out of me. When I did feel the inevitable jab of rebellion, I at least had the good sense to keep my activities on the down-low. Of course, that was a different age before the pull of YouTube and Facebook photo albums.

    But even I fell off the schoolwork wagon often enough. Part of my problem is that I just didn't like school, except when I was learning something I was genuinely interested in...and how often does that happen? I prefer spacing out to studying, and of course, video game obsession knocked me off course from time to time. I had my systems and games taken away now and again. My mother might have sold them entirely if she wasn't so determined to pass the first level of Castlevania III...however many times she had to try.

    The other day, I was reading an article by one of them fancy college-edjyoucated "child psychologists" who had some advice for correcting "bratty kids." None of the disciplinary actions I would employ showed up on the list (nobody uses holes full of hungry rats for anything anymore), but the psychologist recommended against taking away an unruly kid's system and games. Why? Because "if a child is away from video games for long enough, he'll forget he ever liked them."

    Can I be the first to call bullshit on that one?

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  • Games to Movies: Why Is It So Gad-Danged Hard?

    Pardon me, but might I bother you to turn your head while I spew vulgarities? The live-action Castlevania movie by Paul W.S. Anderson is going to be as stinking and putrid as a zombie's testicles. Yeah, as rotten as zombie testicles stewing like dumplings in a pool of sweat collected in the crotch of a pair of leather pants. And...the testicles are dangling. By, like, one scrap of skin.

    One scrap of maggot-chewed skin.

    We're used to this, right? It's the curse of video game-based movies to be absolutely no good. A friend of mine who's a huge Silent Hill fan convinced a non-gaming friend of mine to see the Silent Hill movie. Second friend saw the movie and still insists that first friend owes her eight bucks for making her see the stupidest film in the world.

    But it's not as if the Silent Hill series is incapable of keeping even hardcore horror fans up all night. Why do games translate so badly into movies? Is it because directors (we're not even counting Uwe Boll) have no qualms about taking creative liberties with the source material--the lack of a whip for Simon Belmont's film being a perfect example?

    That certainly can't be helping the problem. On the other hand, there are game-to-movie adaptations, mostly of Japanese origin, that are as easily recognisable as their inspirations...but they still suck.

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John Constantine, our superhero, was raised by birds and then attended Penn State University. He is currently working on a novel about a fictional city that exists only in his mind. John has an astonishingly extensive knowledge of Scientology. Ultimately he would like to learn how to effectively use his brain. He continues to keep Wu-Tang's secret to himself.

Derrick Sanskrit is a self-professed geek in a variety of fields including typography, graphic design, comic books, music and cartoons. As a professional hipster graphic designer, his recent clients have included Hooksexup, Pitchfork and MoCCA, among others.

Amber Ahlborn - artist, writer, gamer and DigiPen survivor, she maintains a day job as a graphic artist. By night Amber moonlights as a professional Metroid Fanatic and keeps a metal suit in the closet just in case. Has lived in the state of Washington and insists that it really doesn't rain as much as everyone says it does.

Nadia Oxford is a housekeeping robot who was refurbished into a warrior when the world's need for justice was great. Now that the galaxy is at peace (give or take a conflict here or there), she works as a freelance writer for various sites and magazines. Based in Toronto, Nadia prizes the certificate from the Ministry of Health declaring her tick and rabies-free.

Bob Mackey is a grad student, writer, and cyborg, who uses the powerful girl-repelling nanomachines mad science grafted onto his body to allocate time towards interests of the nerd persuasion. He believes that complaining about things on the Internet is akin to the fine art of wine tasting, but with more spitting into buckets.

Joe Keiser has a programming degree from Johns Hopkins University, a tiny apartment in Brooklyn, and a fake toy guitar built in the hollowed-out shell of a real guitar. He writes about games and technology for a variety of outlets. One day he will stop doing this. The day after that, police will find his body under a collapsed pile of (formerly neatly alphabetized) collector's edition tchotchkes.

Cole Stryker is an American freelance writer living in York, England, where he resides with his archeologist wife. He writes for a travel company by day and argues about pop culture on the internet by night. Find him writing regularly here and here.

Peter Smith is like the lead character of Irwin Shaw's The 80-Yard Run, except less athletic. He considers himself very lucky to have this job. But it's a little premature to take "jack-off of all trades" off his resume. Besides writing, travelling, and painting houses, Pete plays guitar in a rock trio called The Aye-Ayes. He calls them a 'power pop' band, but they generally sound more like Motorhead on a drinking binge.


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