Fallout 3 reviews round-up #63

amen to THAT, BROTHER brother none brother, brother none
nevermind

ever since per began this madness i've been driven more and more to the community discussions...

no news is good news. unless its the dev interviews. I LOVE THOSE THINGS
 
kikomiko said:
I'm just confused as to why all of them need to be posted.

Why? Why does the sea splash? Why do flying elephants crash?

Look at the time, gotta check for more reviews.
 
[sarcasm]
It seems that Per has been bought off by Bethesda... just look at all those perfect scores....
[\sarcasm]
 
Szeder said:
the sometimes-overly-textualized dialogue trees.

What dialogue trees is he talking about? In this game it is at most a dialogue bush or rather, a dialogue grass

I think people forgot how real dialogue trees look like.
Meanwhile, there is nothing really going on otherwise that is harmed by posting these reviews. If you're not interested in reading more, simply don't read these posts.

It's not about reading them or not, for me, it's about reading something else :P
 
This is the same Per that documented the number of rocks that could be found in Fallout, and you're suprised that he's this thorough?
 
Dork Mage said:
[sarcasm]
It seems that Per has been bought off by Bethesda... just look at all those perfect scores....
[\sarcasm]

Yup.

And some people claim Beth bought every major review site... All it takes is buying Per, lol :lol:
 
Hero, Legend, Myth, And Beyond

Hero, Legend, Myth, And Beyond



[This seeming spam is a test ballon for a preface to Per's Encyclopedia Of Game Review Double Speak, and not intended for the dialogue tree challenged.]


Wake up and it's Tuesday ("Tyr's day" = 'Tew's day' in Old English) 12/09/08!
Pardon that this took days to collate, ... masticate, and regurgitate.

Cimmerian Nights said:
This is the same Per that documented the number of rocks that could be found in Fallout, and you're suprised that he's this thorough?

Remembered, in 'The Long Dark Tea-time Of The Soul' (Douglas Adams, 1988),
a Nordic deity, with a day of the Anglo week honoring his name, was assigned an act of contrition, or busy work, counting all the stones in Wales.

Not that I am focusing on punishment for frustration's anger, nor the book's schemes of misdirection,
although there may be a latent issue of veracity,
when these reviews or blog scribbling-s are accessed with out the proper genre warnings of dire opinions and desperate fictional content.

If electronic game reviews, and the fellow traveler commentary hovering in the blogosphere, claim any pretense to journalism,
then I might allege the phenomenon to be - pack journalism - and the consensus of opinion a result of a stampeding groupthink into a warm and fuzzy, feel good style.

But as reviews are more about pleasing every one all the time, then I consider these as text filler between the ads,
a variety of happy talk dependent on the PR trickle down of corporations for information and the slight of hand agenda of reinforcing paid ad space.
And perhaps after this facetiousness, there remains the 'dear diary' etchings of ecstatic enthusiasm by the forever young, and, or terminally Nex Gen.

I will admit some may read as journalism, and the 9 out of 10 scoring may radiate an honest expression of personal opinion.
My profile is not as absolutist as those pleading eternal fealty to FO3. My stereo type may not apply to one, nor to all.
Professional writers can scribble in any artistic school fancied, including that of 'capitalist realism'.
Wouldn't have it any other way.

Now to the true focus of 'counting all the stones',
Per's cataloguing / chronicling the news, reviews, and hysterical spews , heralding the second coming of 'Oblivion' (with guns).

It is the bare faced gushiness of absolutes, and the epidemic blistering use of 'epic' at a rate of acceleration only encountered in special relativity,
that rockets Per from the muddy tracks / muddled tracts of a working class hero into beyond the hazy domain of heady legend ...

... into the mythic!

I am sure my *modest* style has been infected by the absolutist rhetoric of all this catalogued advertising copy,
but before I slap down my irrationally exuberant salutes to this legendary cartography of the advertising wastelands,
I wish to propose ... no, not renaming a day of the week (Thor's-day --> Per's-day?) ...
no, the tax liability would be sure to devastate any implied income ...
no, if legend transcends all expectations and this glorious venture for truth quantum leaps onto myth ...
well, Per will be long gone and our humble gratitude will rustle like dry leaves spinning down our now dark avenues.

So, I suggest we plan to celebrate one day, a SPECIAL one day only!, as "Per's Day", doesn't have to be 2008, or 2009. or even 2012,
perhaps an appropriate date in the 'once and future' FO canon!
For those emotionally budget minded, could declare it in 2007, so all expenses paid!
PR speak is proofed script that supports the ease of rewriting history.
Per must have misplaced the NMA regalia award of Carmel Nut Clusters,
or Dogmeat ate it.

Consider we celebrate ... the hero ... the legend ... the myth ... into THE BEYOND!

Salute!:salute: :salute: :drunk: :salute:
180px-Thor.jpg

Hammer on Per! :clap:



4too
 
^Genius!
I like how "Persday" runs off the tip of your tongue, it sounds so right.

But we have to ask ourselves, what is the next step? I vote for deification.
 
Three-way Bridge

Three-way Bridge


4too said:
Consider we celebrate ... the hero ... the legend ... the myth ... into THE BEYOND!

Let us not forget that a 'figure of destiny' can also equal a 'servant' ... whomsoever steps up to answer the call. Hero ... legend ... Champion ... perhaps of the Eternal variety? Who seeks atonement less as an 'act of will' than as a 'whim of fate'.

Provocation is all the Rage these days ... Nerd or otherwise. Nary a bridge without some scoffing coming up from under it.
Most of them go One Way only, some few go two ... rare indeed the trident causeway that mocks messenger and message both while infuriating the recipient equally.

Dirty laundry now all laid out in a violent row, each pair of knickers a confession, an accusation, a gauntlet thrown - all curiously manufactured for a single hand, and with thumbs stuck (Uniform-ly) in "Up" mode.

Echoing in a silent way the touching concerns of the Press, fearful of ending up in the warm mother pouch of Industry - one would think that in order to 'watch it', they might first try to 'climb out of it' ...
For our (re-)viewing pleasure, the legacy of their finest attempt.

Our Press is a milling Throng with few distinct voices, it seems. As any seasoned kitty cloner knows, when you copy cats you don't expect a rainbow of furs, but rather in the very act you opt for a certain monotone - may it please the clientele.


It is only a modest pooka who heeds the resulting call, searching out the finest droplets to drip ... drip on loyalist and dissident alike,
perhaps in the end to bore the rock of contention into a peculiar torus?
Some loudly curse this rain, while others tend to their crops, and see what may become of them. And the pooka's heart of stone is warmed.

In the end, what is a Champion without his equally Eternal Companions?


:salute: 'Til Tanelorn :salute:
 
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