Pineconeattack!

Well my Xbox 360 died after less than a year. Poor guy.

He was well treated, well lit and well loved, and frankly, the real irony is that out of all my friends, that my 360 dies not only earlier than everyone elses, but is also my main gaming system. Go figure.

So I put in my order, got my white box-Jango says everyone is calling it the coffin-and this week I will finally send it on its way.

I had a sweet lil video of my initial reaction, but the vortex of filth that is my room has devoured my camera charger and such great videos I had stored upon it.

Let me just say this, the language content contained therein was not only EPIC but almost devilish in both its vitrol and vindictiveness. I had things to say. They were mostly four lettered and loud. It scared the dog.

Imagine if you will: One man, forlorn and beset by both rage, his right fist upraised to the fickle gods that destroy love and his left hand stroking the coffin that contains his beloved FPS machine. It will shoot no more for him. His eyes are bloody with fire and tears leak as he demands answers for this bullshittery. He curses both heaven and all below it. Picture him enraged beyond belief while his companions twitter and giggle with their Playstation 3’s and their Wii’s. They have 360’s also. Working ones. They also have a lack of mercy.

Damn them all. They know not the pain that is no Halo 3, no COD 4, no Earth Defense Force. They shame me with their nights of gaming. MY FPS machine. It… It is a god no longer. It’s horrendous whirring noise will no longer signal hours of firing bullets to the tune of 1 million shrill pre-teen voices lulling me to sleep with cries of, “You faggot!” or “Dibs on the sniper!” Nay, it’s red eye glares at me like Sauron. Into Mordor it must be returned.

He looks upon his shelves where his computer games lie. Online he will face savvier foes, armed with both mouse and keyboard. Some of them will have headsets and microphones and their settings will be faster and more deadly than their console bretheren. They will still spit the same insults, but the voices will more often than not, be less shrill but more choked with Mountain Dew and Cheetos. It is his hunting ground of old.

Then the evil of Microsoft strikes again.

He realizes that he made the mistake of having Vista installed on his new gaming computer, his gaming is slow with DRM checks and driver version errors; his microphone won’t initialize and he is silent on the internet. Some count themselves lucky for he only would mouth curses and hate at this indignity.

Like a one-two blow to the ballsack he collapses, shrieking his hatred to the thrashing clouds; the bitter taste of bile and Nintendo brand chewing gum foaming out his gnashing teeth. He spits acidic liquid and words in equal amounts.

Behold him, Furious Gamer. Cheated by fate! Cheated by Microsoft!

A Myspace message from Xeno is the final twist of the knife. Xeno tells him that the new Rainbow Six game is in and does he want a copy? It is too much. He will never buy a game again.

In short: Fucking tootie shit fuck. 

I guess this means that I’m going to miss both the new content for Mass Effect, COD4, Halo 3 and all the other crap I was looking forward too dammit.

Only 16% failure? Even Gen’s 360 is having the first stages of Red Ring of Death, and she cares for her systems like most people care for children. The RRoD is no longer cancer, a sickness than strikes a percentage of the population and is feared but preventable. No, no longer is something that happens to some, it is chicken pox, something that almost everyone will experience at an early stage. Only the lucky few have dodged its itchy clasp.

Whatever. Thanks Microsoft!

- Tenno