Trevor, Trevor, Trevor...
The Grand Theft Auto Rampage: The Violence of Cultural and Subcultural Politics
What am I talking about here? I don't know. I'm just talking.
If T.S. Eliot, Samuel Beckett, and David Lynch made a game, well, first off I would play it. But it would also, of course, be Kentucky Route Zero.
Once in awhile you have to work the word sodomy into the title of an article.
I am so bored of game critics being embarrassed by and afraid of GTA. Get over it, guys. It might upset some apple carts, but we aren't fucking Puritans. Stop being so afraid of satire.
I swear if Swift published "A Modest Proposal" today, these kids would be horrified that he wants to eat all the Irish babies.
Stop being so tone deaf and so fucking delicate.
--Elvis Costello, "Hand in Hand," This Year's Model
Ah, moral panic has become so blase.
Or at least this flavor of moral panic.
Of late, we've recorded a bunch of podcasts in a short span of time, so the details of this one are a little fuzzy in my mind. I seem to recall that I was pleased on the whole with this discussion, which is a good thing, right?
That is assuming I trust my own judgment these days, of course...
I like the splash image at least. Cheesy, simple, but I understand black nail polish.