Just read this post by a forum member on Bungie.net:

“Girls are better to play Halo with for the same reason that girls are better to do everything with.

Basically they smell better than guys, they’re softer, they’re nicer to look at and they have the affect of making you act like a better person when they’re around.

I can’t think of anything I enjoy doing that I don’t enjoy doing even more with a girl.”

I less than three that post.

After all the hoopla over Bungie’s forthcoming E3 announcement, it got the stop from its publisher (Microsoft) and had to shelve the whole thing. Bungie went through a shitload of work, from what I could see, only to get everything stuffed by Microsoft. How much does that suck? And then, really kick Bungie in the junk, some xbox rep confirms that Bungie is working on a new Halo title. What a way to take all the glory from Bungie, especially after they went to all that trouble and build up.

GRRface, indeed.

…and then, very flustered, accidentally healed not Cloud and his party, but the enemies instead.

America’s Army: True Soldiers

The only reason this game gets a two and not a one is because it has a sniper rifle in it. I once thought that Delta Force: Black Hawk Down was about as bad a game as you could get. Turns out I was wrong. The first incarnation of America’s Army was released in 2002 as a free PC game. For this new version, they’ve taken that decent, free game out to the parking lot, beat the ever-living shit out of it, and gave us the battered body of the game for the 360 console.

You start out in a basic training mode designed to familiarize yourself with each of the weapons used for the game, ranging from the M16A4 to the SAW. Each section begins the same way—with a lecture from a drill sergeant—and can’t be skipped (which is more than obnoxious for people who already know the weapon’s specs). You can then practice and qualify with each weapon. The aiming system is a bit off—okay, more than a bit—it’s jumpier than a barefoot child attempting to walk on hot sand.

After qualifying with all the weapons, you’re run through an obstacle course that supposedly puts all your training together. It does, in a way, and in the same boring manner as the previous sections. The directions given by the drill instructors are at once incredibly specific and exasperatingly vague. As I played the game, I hoped that our military trainees didn’t have the same issues of vague, yet specific, and entirely cranky D.I.’s.

One particularly frustrating moment in the obstacle course (designed to mimic Individual Movement Techniques) is when you have to ‘drag and heal’ a fellow soldier (in this game, a hapless volunteer). You’re given the instruction to press the ‘medic’ button.

There is no medic button.

A hit of ’start’ and a quick consult of the instruction booklet.

Ah-ha! The medic button is Y, which is the context-sensitive button.

Resume game.

Press Y. Press Y. Press Y.

Nothing happens aside from a now playing-dead soldier and a really cranky D.I.

I’ve failed that objective. I’m scolded and sent to the senior D.I. He tells me to throw a smoke grenade at the obstacles ahead.

What obstacles ahead?

As I look, puzzled, down the course, searching for these ‘obstacles’ I’m ordered to stay in my lane.

WTF? I’m in my lane. I haven’t moved!

I still can’t find the obstacles.

Then I’m failed for the entire section for disobeying a direct order.

Gah!

Well, on my second time through, I tried holding the Y button.

The pretend-victim still pretend-died.

I did, however, find my lane and the obstacles on my second try. They were well-forward of the position I’d been in when told to stay in my lane. Of course. Why didn’t I think of that sooner?

Once you’ve completed the obstacle course, you’re taken through an urban warfare setup as a final mission for your basic training. This urban warfare mission uses paintball.

That’s right, paintball. In a video game. In the large part and not just a ‘customized, amusing feature’ part of a video game.

Turns out the paintball stays in the game. The warfare levels after basic training are all paintball-based. Add this little eye-catching feature to the need to stay painfully close to a vague yet specific squad leader with mind-numbingly boring missions like ‘take out the four machine-gun nests in four look-alike spots in a large farm-looking-map’ and you have yourself a game that makes you want to stab yourself in the eye for a better entertainment value.

Oddly enough—oddly because I can’t figure out who in their right mind would play this enough to make use of it—America’s Army: True Soldiers has a multiplayer component.

I didn’t make it that far, as I couldn’t bear to play the game any longer.

To sum it up, friends don’t let friends play America’s Army: True Soldiers. In fact, if someone offers to lend you this game, they aren’t your friend. They’re the person that picked on you in the first grade and you’re still falling for their shit. So don’t take the game. Punch him in the face instead. You’ll both be the better for it.

We happily drove to Wal-Mart and parked. Nathan made sure to get a spot close to the door. I commented that we didn’t have to park that close (he’d waited for a space).

Zach came back with, “We’re Americans, we’re lazy.”

Well, I couldn’t argue with that.

Then Nathan noticed that the car in front of us (in the next parking spot) was pulling out. Nathan says, “Should we pull through?”

Realizing that this would delay our getting to play the demo, I said, “No. We’re Americans and we’re impatient. Let’s go.”

Off we went.

We traipse into the store and down to the electronics aisle. As we get closer, we can hear the sounds of someone banging the drums. Not playing, mind you, but banging. Banging as in hitting them very, very hard. Turning the corner, we discover that the drums are being hit by a child of, say, thirteen or fourteen. Patiently, we wait, noting that it was a good thing we didn’t waste all of our minimal patience on pulling through to the next parking spot. The Child, as he shall henceforth be called, bangs away to Dani California by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. The song ends and we now step forward just a little, eagerly anticipating our turn to try Rock Band.

The Child starts another song, by himself. And by ‘another song’ I don’t mean a different song. I mean a new rendition of Dani California.

We wait. The Child continues hitting the shit out of the drums while holding the sticks entirely wrong (tightly, by the ends, using his wrists instead of his fingers).

Song finishes. We take another minute step forward. Yes! This will be our turn!

The Child turns to us, not getting off the stool at the drums, and asks, “Someone want to join in with me?”

The three of us are so appalled by his lack of manners that we’re stunned into silence. Zach recovers first and says he’ll play the guitar. Now, Zach is quite good at the 360 guitar, having beaten Guitar Hero III on expert. So he knows what he’s doing. But The Child condescendingly explains to Zach how to play. Zach patiently waits for The Child to shut up. The Child tells Zach to play bass because it is easier and that he should select the difficulty of Easy.

Zach compromises by choosing Medium.

Commence playing. Playing what? Dani California.Within seconds, commence Failing on Zach’s part. Why? Because the guitar is broken (the strum button doesn’t work). The Child doesn’t believe Zach’s explanation, as he must believe the game that Zach does not, in fact, rock. So The Child chooses to play guitar himself, though he has just informed us that he is, in fact, A Real Drummer.

I resist the urge to ask him to do a drumroll, which would be impossible due to the way he was strangling the sticks. But I resist, because The Child would then have to prove that he can, indeed, Really Play the Drums and wouldn’t abandon them for the guitar. Since I keep my mouth shut (which is becoming quite difficult at this point), the kid does ditch the drums for the guitar.

The drums are free! I eagerly hop onto the stool recently vacated by The Child. The Child then tells me to choose easy. I do. I choose a Metallica song and The Child cancels that and switches it to—you guessed it—Dani California.

Fine.

Commence playing. Commence The Child Failing on the guitar. Commence me getting halfway through the song before not being familiar with the placement of the drums fails me. But hot damn, it was fun. Yet, even though I was having fun, it was someone else’s turn (my parents did a lot of things wrong, but they did do a decent job on manners). So I hand the sticks and stool over to Nathan.

Nathan takes a seat and The Child proceeds to give him a slow, detailed, and Entirely Smug Condescending explanation of how to play.

Nathan says, “I know how to do this.”

The Child says, “Oh, I know. I was mostly saying it for her.” [emphasis The Child's.]

Cue Nathan sitting in stunned silence.

Cue Zach nearly exploding due to keeping his laughter in.

Cue me having to muster every restraining element of my mind and body to keep myself from maiming The Child.

Cue me walking away.

Nathan plays Dani California with The Child until the have both failed.

Cue Nathan walking away.

Cue The Child resuming his drum smacking away to Dani California, assuming that the Wal-Mart electronics section Rock Band demo is his own personal arcade.

Frustrated, we head out of Wal-Mart. Nathan makes a pit stop at Customer Service to rat out The Child. He says many things. He points out that they are losing potential customers since they can’t try out the demo without a Condescending Child ruining their experience. He points out that the three of us came to Wal-Mart for the sole purpose of trying out the demo and couldn’t, because of The Child. He points out that Wal-Mart, the last time he checked, was not an arcade. The Customer Service agent promised to deal with The Child.

We left.

I bet The Child is still there, forever ruining Rock Band and Dani California for all who happen by.