Ruthless Reviews E3 Drinking Game, 2014 Edition
His grace, Geoff of the house Keighley, first of his name, king of the Doritos and the Dew Men, lord of the softball coverage and protector of the Metacritic average, does hereby sentence you to suffer three days of wankery.
It’s time, folks!
Once again, it’s time for that grand, annual pageant of pandering, the ball of bullshit, the gala of goddamned multibillion dollar companies making the saddest of attempts to pretend they care about “gaming culture” (lol all day at that fucking term) instead of just seeing walking wallets every time they spot a fedora or hands stained by Dorito dust.
Yea, Electronic Entertainment Expo (E3) is upon us! It’s the closest thing our stupid hobby has to Wrestlemania, and it’s just as chockfull of ridiculousness and homoeroticism (have you seen the beards on the
borderline autistic game developers these companies trot out year after year? WOOF!).
E3 2014 runs June 10-12, and you will find me rambling sporadically about it on Twitter, because I love you guys and also because I hate myself very much. Anything as retarded as E3 goes down better with alcohol, so here’s the inaugural Ruthless Reviews Electronic Entertainment Expo Drinking Game. As always, check with your physician before playing, and may God have mercy on your soul.
Take a drink:
Every time a company trots out a model, athlete, or celebrity to pretend they give a shit about video games. (If you can clearly see the death in their eyes as they look out upon a sea of pasty game journalists, take two drinks.)
Every time you read a clickbaiting op-ed next week by a game journalist decrying E3 as sexist, violent, embarrassing, irrelevant, or needing to “grow up.” (Don’t count pieces by Polygon’s Ben Kuchera in this tally, or you’ll probably die of alcohol poisoning, and we want no part of your lawsuits.)
Someone says “experiences.”
Someone says “innovation.”
Someone says “content.”
Someone says “social.”
Someone says “cloud.”
Every time a game is mentioned/shown that the games press clings to as some sort of harbinger of innovation, even though it’s clear from the first that said game is going to be little more than a genre exercise.
Finish your drink:
Every time you read a piece or comment next week whining that there weren’t enough women presenting at E3 conferences.
Any current home console gets a pricedrop or new bundle.
Aisha Tyler refers to “girlwood.” (A hashtagged shirt like 2013’s means keep drinking throughout the presentation.)
Someone says “value proposition.”
Onstage demo glitches and causes the presenter to magically transform into a deer caught in headlights.
Every time a demo is “played” onstage that clearly is not happening in real time. Finish two drinks if the stage demo involves disinterested parties pretending to play while shouting out scripted lines at each other. Finish three drinks if this demo includes either children or motion controls. Finish four drinks if this demo includes both children and motion controls.
Every time an obscenely wealthy executive from a company makes a shameless, obvious attempt to bond with the audience of broke game journalists (and millions of basement dwellers watching at home), finish two drinks. If Microsoft’s Phil Spencer is actually stupid enough to repeat last year’s “$1500 blazer over interchangeable T-shirts with indie game logos” ensemble, just constantly imbibe during Microsoft’s conference.
Every time a game company announces something legitimately awesome that won’t be available before 2015 or later.
Get shitfaced ASAP:
Sony announces Project Morpheus will be available before the end of 2014.
Mr. Caffeine comes back.
If Sony, Microsoft, or Nintendo announces new consoles.
If Sony announces a date for The Last Guardian.
If Valve shows any footage of Half Life 3.
If Sony/Valve confirms cancellation of The Last Guardian/Half Life 3.
If it becomes apparent Microsoft really does have no retail AAA exclusives left for 2014, other than Sunset Overdrive and Halo remasters.
Cry yourself to sleep:
When you realize you’ve spent 3 goddamned days of your life watching and following this giant pile of failure.