2012, Hell, USA. 2 years after Avatar released Mark Wahlberg, known for his roles in The Bourne Identity and making burgers, once said "If I was on that plane with my kids, it wouldn't have went down like it did. There would have been a lot of blood in that first-class cabin and then me saying, 'OK, we're going to land somewhere safely, don't worry.' " in regards to the tragic accident that occured on that fateful day of September, 2001. I lean on believing him, his claims supported by the fact that his hamburguers are 100% 9/11 proof. It's obvious that he was a man who marched through life to the rhythms of some drum I would never hear.
How do you even wax philosophically about this game? From the utterly incomprehensible neo noir mystery of Correctness, the spook POV of Matchmaker, and the kifsdoeupjvei3esdz0dgfombghoijzw3 of Placebo, this game refuses to be understood. Sheer style carries it while it jumps from one horror inducing plot point to the next like a gibbon in the jungle.
The best way to resume of this game would be "Conspiracies are real, fuck you. Also Twin Peaks The Return rules". It's acutally kinda interesting how it mirrors a lot of the stuff David Lynch had to say in 2017 but in 2005 and in Japan. Your role in this...thing is that of an observer, made privy to the secret and terrible beauty of the modern world. Hard boiled detectives trying their hardest to not succumb to their old wounds in an urban hell that just won't let sleeping dogs lie.
The leviathan we call internet is extremely present through all of this, it's teenagers telling me to kill myself vividly present alongside actual useful information about the shadows that lurk in the 25th Ward. More than in Silver Case, here the net appears as both the messiah and the anti christ, cursing and assisting the protagonists during their journies of self-discovery and unmasking the lethal intentions of bureaucracy.
In summary, I made this review solely to try and get Josh_The_Fourth and have more likes than him like I did on Flower, Sneed and Rain. I didn't get shit on this one, I just wrote stuff to sound cool. I guess society is bad or something? Fuck the Police or the shadow police? There's a high schooler there somewhere too. She sees ghosts I think. Maybe there is no Heaven. Or maybe this is all pure gibberish—a product of the demented imagination of a lazy drunken hillbilly with a heart full of hate who has found a way to live out where the real winds blow—to sleep late, have fun, get wild, drink whisky, and drive fast on empty streets with nothing in mind except falling in love and not getting arrested. Res ipsa loquitur. Let the good times roll.
How do you even wax philosophically about this game? From the utterly incomprehensible neo noir mystery of Correctness, the spook POV of Matchmaker, and the kifsdoeupjvei3esdz0dgfombghoijzw3 of Placebo, this game refuses to be understood. Sheer style carries it while it jumps from one horror inducing plot point to the next like a gibbon in the jungle.
The best way to resume of this game would be "Conspiracies are real, fuck you. Also Twin Peaks The Return rules". It's acutally kinda interesting how it mirrors a lot of the stuff David Lynch had to say in 2017 but in 2005 and in Japan. Your role in this...thing is that of an observer, made privy to the secret and terrible beauty of the modern world. Hard boiled detectives trying their hardest to not succumb to their old wounds in an urban hell that just won't let sleeping dogs lie.
The leviathan we call internet is extremely present through all of this, it's teenagers telling me to kill myself vividly present alongside actual useful information about the shadows that lurk in the 25th Ward. More than in Silver Case, here the net appears as both the messiah and the anti christ, cursing and assisting the protagonists during their journies of self-discovery and unmasking the lethal intentions of bureaucracy.
In summary, I made this review solely to try and get Josh_The_Fourth and have more likes than him like I did on Flower, Sneed and Rain. I didn't get shit on this one, I just wrote stuff to sound cool. I guess society is bad or something? Fuck the Police or the shadow police? There's a high schooler there somewhere too. She sees ghosts I think. Maybe there is no Heaven. Or maybe this is all pure gibberish—a product of the demented imagination of a lazy drunken hillbilly with a heart full of hate who has found a way to live out where the real winds blow—to sleep late, have fun, get wild, drink whisky, and drive fast on empty streets with nothing in mind except falling in love and not getting arrested. Res ipsa loquitur. Let the good times roll.