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Spittin' Game 

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Xbox 360, PS3, PC

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Gears of War
Epic Games
Xbox 360

F.E.A.R.’s another entry in the good-but-not-great canon (get it?) of 360 shooters. In my review of the demo last month, I hilariously compared the game to the bastard child of a slutty Half Life 2, but that was prematurely harsh.

F.E.A.R. borrows liberally from many other games, and somehow even rips off the little girl from The Ring, but it’s definitely worth playing. Any title with such a sexy bullet-time addiction makes for some pretty sweet gaming, and this is one of the only survival horror games to actually scare me. You may not pee your pants with excitement, but you might just pee your pants with fright. And in the end, isn’t that what really matters? God, I hope not.


Gears of War makes me realize that reviewing videogames kind of sucks. Sure, the lifestyle of a semiprofessional freelance videogame writer has its perks, but think about this: I have to stop playing GOW long enough to write about it. Sure, I’ll just throw together a half-assed meta-review, but even a poorly executed word-count padder like this takes time. Precious, precious time that could be better used hacking through Locust forces with my chainsaw bayonet.

Each word I type represents another few seconds I’m not fragging swarming mutants, enjoying the brilliantly conceived firefights and intuitive duck-and-cover system with a disturbing sense of childlike wonderment.

Since GOW came out, I’m less annoyed with Halo 3’s constant delays. Instead, I’m annoyed with everything that isn’t GOW. Working, writing this damn review, making love to my wife — these are just obstacles keeping me away from my chainsaw bayonet. And that’s where this terrible review is actually useful. Hopefully, after the Current fires me and my wife files for divorce, I’ll finally log some decent playing time.

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