Muffinetta

hokay, so, there's this game, it's an old game now, and by 'old' I mean that by any other standard it'd still be young enough that you'd have to clean up its shit and feed it on a regular basis; but you're a bastard and to you its a grumpy old man sitting on his porch with a shotgun and a glass of old scotch aiming at making the front page once the school buses start their deliveries.
So, by now it's safe to assume you have NO IDEA what I'm talking about.
Here's a picture:

Ok, that probably didn't help that much, since all you know now is that there's a sexy librarian chick with a gun, and the moon.... and the moon... but that bastard's a different topic already.

ANYWAY.

What I'm trying to get to is Bayonetta, a somewhat overlooked spectacle fighter that was probably overlooked since any mother considering getting their kid a game for Christmas, or for any other reason, would probably rather give their child a private pole-dancing lesson than let them anywhere near this game.
Now, to clarify, the game is not sexually explicit, but rather.... very, very, very sexually implicit.  very.
This game is one big damn sex joke.

First clear distinction from DMC:
You're a chick with a katana.
Advantage: Bayonetta.

And that, right there, either sold you on the game, or made you stop reading this and go do something with your life; and by 'do something with your life' I mean get hit by a truck and become an organ donor, because clearly, someone else can better utilize those squishy life sponges that you're keeping all to yourself.
So, the game.  It's a spectacle fighter.  That really just means "kinda like Devil May Cry".  Now, it's kinda like Devil May Cry, except better.  Now, you can take my word for this, or read the rest of this and become convinced, or, you can take the fact that a used copy of Bayonetta is selling for roughly double what a used copy of DMC4 is selling for: empirical evidence- fuck yeah.  Anyway, it's better, empirically, which is basically the same as saying scientifically, and if science says it, you're basically fucked if you try to disagree; like people who think homeopathic medicine works.  But, reasons why it's better, why it's selling for double, and why it's worth that double monies.  Well, first off, the combat doesn't suck like it does in DMC4.  The fights in Bayonetta are hugely varied and the number of gameplay variations that the game can throw at you ensures that there are very few 'generic' fights, but that each one usually has its own 'twist' (note: Bayonetta is, thankfully, in no way associated with a certain Mr. Shayamamalamanana-- you know who i mean dammit).  Also, MOTHERFUCKING MID BOSS CHECKPOINTS.
If you have no idea why that deserves to be in caps, then this game isn't for you, you dumb cunt.
If you read that and had to forcibly restrain yourself from humping your computer screen in joy, then this game will fullfil your wildest dreams.
Also, you can fucking walk on walls.
That's right, parkour doesn't have shit on this game.
On the more technical aspects of the game, the graphics are good, even great, for the 360.  Not the best on the 360, but quite good.  Of more note on a visual perspective is the artstyle of the game; now, I'm not an artist, nor do I know all that much about art, but I can say that it's one of the more visually unique and interesting games out there.

Seriously, there are guns on her shoes,
if that doesn't convince you to play this
then I don't know what will.

The gameplay is very DMC, but with some slowmo bits, some wall/ceiling walking, some non-sense, and some other bits that just generally work better than DMC.
OH.
THE STORY.
THAT MOTHERFUCKER.

Yep, that's a giant disembodied foot.

Ok, if anyone knows what the fuck is going on here, I will fucking shit a fucking gold plated brick.  The story here makes as much sense as a M.C. Hammer children's book.  I mean, it fluxuates between serious face story, plot, characters, plot devices normal bits, and then, for no fucking reason, and with no fucking warning, fucking big band music with a brass section starts playing and everything takes an acid laced tumble-romp into crazy town.  It's like someone with highly, highly unregulated bipolar disorder and amnesia wrote some of the cutscenes, or they had ADHD and narcolepsy, I'm not sure, but, FUCK.  I can follow... most anything, even Spirited Away made reasonable sense the first time I watched it, but this, THIS, this is... this is... this is what would happen if Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Natural Born Killers had a baby, and that baby did meth, but not just any meth, ENERGY METH, then fucked mother nature until cacti were growing in Moscow.  Oh, and they want to make DAMN SURE you know that Bayonetta has amnesia, I mean, every other story bit is a mention of how she doesn't remember anything, like, seriously, not a fucking thing, nothing, not one memory, did you get it, they don't think so, they'll tell you again, and make sure you know: SHE DON'T KNOW SHIT.  I dunno, maybe it's their private joke about how she, like you, doesn't know shit about what's going on.

Oh, and there's this motherfucker
Spoiler Alert: He's angry as shit
And no, we don't know why.

So, yeah, that's Bayonetta:
Gameplay: A-fucking-plus amazing
Graphics: don't need beer-goggles good
Story: ah, fuck it
Sex Jokes: more abundant than tequila and glitter in Ke$ha's stomache
Nonsense: double negative entropy bubbles.
Art: like watching The Divine Comedy, but with tits and nonsense.

In summary: it's like playing through The Divine Comedy, if Dante Aligheri had written it after doing some acid and watching some tentacle hentai (if you don't know what that is.... there's always google), but with an extra layer of refined, weapons grade nonsense icing and with tits and sex joke sprinkles.

Or maybe it should be "ass and sex joke sprinkles"
Either way, damn good game.
Oh, and if you're or the female variety, and wondering if you'd still enjoy the game,
yes, it's still fun, and no, it still doesn't make any sense.

Muffin Bending

You see this here? This poster? This is pretty cool you might say. You might say this poster fills you with hopes and aspirations for a movie capable of living up to the amazing series it claims to be based on. If you would say this, or anything, even a negative something in a somewhat positive tone, you would be wrong. So wrong that not only would you feel the sting of regret burning in your wallet for spending money to be exposed to this travestry, but your children's-childrend's-children would wake up every morning wondering why their corneas were burning with the heat of ten-thousand O-class stars.

The Last Airbender is a cinematic tumor created by carcinogen M. Night Shyamalan. Technically, the abomination's name was originally to be the same as the absolutely fantastic series created by Nickelodion: Avatar: The Last Airbender, but that got screwed out when space Pocahontas rolled through on her glowing planet of sex-addicts (seriously, they "plugged-in" to like, every freakin' animal on the planet...that's just creepy) and took the first part of the title away from Shyamalan.

As I went to watch this puss-filled boil, my hopes were low. I had followed Avatar from beginning to end and was incredibly pessimistic about the movie living up to the series. And it's good I did so, otherwise I may have begun to choke the individual sitting in front of me in the theater, all the while thinking I was doing the honorable thing by putting them out of their misery.

The first painful thorn in my kidney were the actors. They weren't actors. They were about as good at acting as 120-proof vodka is at soothing a ruptured hemroid. Either emotionless or bipolar, they seemed to have no idea how to portray the potentially deep and compelling emotions they were supposed to be feeling; coming across as cardboard cut-outs I wanted to set on fire; savoring their transformation into ashes. The only one I would leave not-on-fire would be Shaun Toub, who (despite not being large enough around the waist) did a decent job of portraying Uncle Iroh. I'm sure he could have been better, had he not been surrounded by paste-eating retards.

The other iron stake slowly making its way through my pancreas was the story. Shyamalan decided to sum up a twenty-some episode season within 103 minutes. This did not go well. Major plot points were quickly skimmed over, while minor ones seemed to be over-emphasized. The movie felt rushed, incomplete, and left me guessing that, without having seen the series before-hand, I would have no idea what in the fire bending was going on.

And here we find the final splinter in my brain, the details. Shyamalan decided to take most of the wonderful details, chain them to a radiator in the basement, and forget about them. Here are the major ones I had issues with (I'd say spoiler alert, but I hope I've convinced you seeing this movie will shorten your life span): Firebenders cannot create fire from their fists (except for Iroh, who is apparently stronger than the fire-lord); The entire Fire Nation is Indian, and they all were missing their chops; Aang's name was pronounced Oong, in addition to the mispronunciation of every other name...oh, how I could go on and on and on. And you know what Shyamalan? If you're going to drown a character in a floating sphere of water...I mean, kill him; I think it would have been okay to let Oong use that GIANT BLOODY TSUNAMI TO ACTUALLY FREAKING WIPE OUT THE FLEET KILLING INNOCENT CIVILIANS!!!???

Shyamalan, I hope you implode.

> EpicError