Mirror's Edge |
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Written by Silver Sorrow | ||||||||
Sunday, 25 October 2009 21:19 | ||||||||
Page 1 of 6 ![]() Title: Mirror's Edge Alternate Title: Ker-Splat!: The Game Developer: DICE Evil Overlords: Electronic Arts Official Site: EA: Mirror's Edge ESRB Rating: T for Teen [Blood, Language, Violence, Furries On Trampolines (or not)] Reviewed By: Silver "Telescoping Spine" Sorrow Catering By: The Lard Shack (right next door to the Bean Bag Emporium) Score: 7 out of 10 Note: On the official website, you're supposed to "Select Your Country." I'm no geographer, but I believe North America isn't a "country" so much as it is a continent. Legal Note: Despite the advice of my lawyers, I have eschewed the usage of the confoundingly-ubiquitous trademark symbol (TM) that is apparently required by Grammatical Note: Yes, sometimes I switch between *me* doing something and *Faith* doing something. Deal with it. Screenshot Note: Since I'm running on an LCD at 1280x1024 (so far behind the widescreen curve am I...), the entire game was letterboxed for me. That is, black bars at the top and bottom. I removed these in the screenshots. You're welcome. ![]() Abstract
I'm sitting there at the Metallica concert...with my parents...in a high school auditorium. It's early; no one's taken the stage yet. The guys lounging in the row in front of me are obviously Hetfield's speech writers; they're counting the number of f-bombs he's supposed to drop into his between-song patter, just to keep him "edgy." There's a very thin, very nervous black man who is supposed to be the emcee, but he's almost catatonic from stage fright. I drag him to the stage, and I notice that a ladies' church group is backstage offering free skin care makeovers. Maybe a chemical peel will do me good, I think. So the lights go down and there I am, one of several shining green faces in the crowd. It doesn't last too long, and soon it's time to grab our things and go home. My dad has a ton of stuff and it takes him forever to gather everything up. "Did you ever notice that dad's a nester?" I ask my mother. It only got worse and worse until I woke up. And since my next dream featured me...uh...getting to third base...with a pretty brunette woman in a church, I concluded that I really don't need a drug problem with my own personal chemicals hard at work. Really, I don't think I need sleep so much anymore as I need total, undreaming unconsciousness. To this end, I have bought a heavy mallet...Onward!
This game is a capitalization on the bizarre "sport" of Parkour, which is a French word meaning "dumbass." Apparently, and I'm only going by remote-hand information here, the idea is to run everywhere all willy-nilly and leap across rooftops and obstacles and eventually end up in traction. I wonder: whatever happened to just sliding down a metal railing and mangling one's balls beyond all recognition? If it was good enough for the morons of my teen years, it's good enough for today's morons. But no, when one's addicted to their own adrenaline, none of the past's extreme sports will ever satisfy. Flagpole sitting, base-jumping, and mass genocide have been left to antiquity, replaced by receiving tramp stamps in suburban tattooeries, stalking Miley Cyrus,** and Tweeting how much they "heart" something while stumbling off particularly high curbs and falling down open manholes without even a tried-and-true Acme umbrella. [** Personally, I'd rather stalk a fat hairy biker with hemmorhoids and a withered hand than look at Miley Cyrus.] ![]() Recycling: Not Only Good For The Planet, But Required For The Likes Of You, Carbon Suck-Point
Although Mirror's Edge has nothing to do with Assassin's Creed (another EA game), the game's menu seems somewhat similar. But understand that my brain is mulch (see the Abstract for irrefutable evidence), and therefore I am unreliable. |