Welcome to the Xbox One troubleshooting guide! As the title suggests, this guide is being distributed due to some of the slight performance issues experienced by a small percentage of new Xbox One owners in the hopes that most of these can be solved by the end user without having to return the console to the retailer where it was purchased for an exchange. Due to the limited supply of Xbox One consoles in circulation, we understand that this could potentially lead to a frustrating experience for our customers who pre-ordered the console, and so we here at Microsoft want to do everything we can to prevent future dissatisfaction with our console.
A small percentage of new Xbox One owners have reported a degree of pixellation, distortion, and fragmentation of the image produced on screen by the Xbox One system. There are varying levels of this problem occurring among those who have run into this unfortunate problem, but we have found that many of them will disappear entirely if the HDMI cable the system came with is replaced with a suitable substitute. We will be planning to ship out new HDMI cables to people experiencing this problem in mid February, and there will soon be a replacement request form available on our main website, www.xbox.com
Some users are experiencing isolated fits of vomiting and nausea when playing the Xbox One. This is most likely due to the extreme fluidity with which full, 360 degree motion is portrayed as a result of our high definition graphics processors. A small percentage of users who are experiencing sickness as a result of the Xbox One may want to consult their doctor, however, and request a bottle of potassium iodide if they wish to continue use of the Xbox One. Due to the High Fidelity Shadow and Lighting engine contained within the hardware of the system itself, a small, non-lethal amount of radiation has been reported as emanating from the interior of the system. Microsoft will be sending out a Hazmat Brochure Package to the emails of all current Xbox Live subscribers, which can be traded in for fifty percent off of a high density hazmat suit for those still experiencing difficulties in the future.
A very small percentage of our user base has reported to us that their Xbox One Premium Silver Ultimate Package did not contain an Xbox One system at all, but rather an inter-dimensional tear in the space-time continuum which immediately began to absorb all matter within its immediate proximity into its nucleus upon opening the box. If this is the case, do not be alarmed; this is an isolated issue that has occured do to rough handling during shipping. The thousand hateful trumpets playing in terrifying harmony are a side effect of the dimensional rift, which is merely a gateway to the end of space and time, home of Azathoth The Nuclear Chaos, Father of Nyrlathotep The Goat With A Thousand Young. Please resist any compulsion to to engage in a ritual bloodletting to appease the Elder Gods, and immediately call our customer service hotline for further instruction/preventative incantation.
THE DISC DRIVE IS SPEWING OUT HUNDREDS UPON HUNDREDS OF MAGGOTS
We are not exactly sure why this is occuring, but we recommend that until a further solution can be relayed to you that you isolate play of the Xbox One system to graveyards, cellars, and compost bins.
MY MOTHER WON'T LOOK ME IN THE EYE
Your family has abandoned you. You tried to give your sister a hug and were met with a cold, listless stare. Your father spends his days carving faceless idols from bits of his old computer desk, his fingers a mess of bloody nubs as he claws away furiously, whispering something in tongues. On television, every channel has now been replaced with a single, red, pulsating snakes eyes. Your children sit motionless in the corner of the room, and your uncle laughs madly and throws fecal matter at your Chrysler whenever you drive by his house. Your mother chants in hateful slur in your yard at midnight, and burns an effigy of her own soiled lingerie shaped like a pentagram, while raising a phallic symbol high in the air as she shouts chaotically at the blood red, full moon. This is an issue entirely unrelated to the Xbox One, and if this is something you are experiencing, it is an entirely coincidental side effect to your purchase of the new Xbox game console.
Thieves. There are thieves, everywhere, and they have somehow managed to penetrate the walls of your Xbox One system box, and have pilfered your controller. They are on their way to your house now, and your family is no longer safe. You must return your Xbox One to your nearest retailer immediately and exchange it for an available fire arm; preparations for your future safety rely on it. Stockpile soap, fuel, and dried grains. Mans longest winter is about to arrive.
Thank you for your patience. We hope this troubleshooting guide will be of use to you in the dark, apocalyptic times ahead. Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtag.
[font=Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]"This system is only in the hands of the press. Video games, the things that define consoles, are just dipping their toes into the water and we have no idea how many are going to jump into which pool in the years to come. Putting a score on this shit is irresponsible at best, and at worst it reveals the gaming press's disregard for perspective and thoughtfulness in the pursuit of whatever it takes to appease and get clicks from a segment of the audience that they often hold in contempt."
[/font] ORIGINAL QUOTE HERE
There shouldn't be a lot to add to this, but there is.
Most of the major game sites have posted their "reviews" of the new slew of consoles; little more, typically, than a breakdown of basic hardware, specs, and features that have already been droned on an on for the weeks leading up to the release of said systems.
No shit, I know a guy who was able to sell a PS4 for 1500 dollars. He had two guys from Kijiji literally throwing more money at him until one of them ran out of bills to desperately toss his way.
The world is so fucking fucked if this is what we have degenerated into.
The people rushing out to buy these things is a retarded statement on our inability to exercise responsible practices. "Here is this piece of plastic, and possibly wood, that does almost nothing right now. It plays a handful of games that will be easily found in numerous variety in pawn shops across America. It's potential has not even been brushed upon because a bunch of developers were paid a tremendous amount of money to pump out whatever the fuck they could for it so the rubes will have something to buy. So please buy it; you can download PSN games or watch Grey's Anatomy on it. Isn't that enough?"
The masses say yes. But I don't personally accept their estimate of "value" since they are the same bunch of morons whose time is so valueless that they are willing to wait in line for hours to get a deal on trade ins at Best Buy.
Reviewing a console, apart from being irresponsible, is entirely POINTLESS because they only ones who are actually patient enough to "wait for reviews" are going to be the same folks who actually wait to see what kind of actually content is released over time. Right now, you have your pick of approximately nothing of value over and above what the older generation is offering. The "flagship" titles are a rickety sailboat with holes and the chopped carcass of a hooker shoved in a beer cooler sitting inconspicuously in the corner of it. Day one buyers will smile nervously and try to convince themselves that Ryse will not soon be riding the dusty shelf of the forgotten before it has even had a chance to imprint itself on the memory of anyone, and Knack will be unfortunately remembered as "that shit game that was kind of like the Lego games, if Lego was as charming as a garbage bag full of dildos and anchovies." But none of this matters, because regardless of reviews, launch hype, etc, the only people buying will disregard all of this and go ahead and do it anyways.
Why? Excitement. Community. Fellowship.
Standing in line at midnight to wait for the new Disappointing War Shooter is the church of the new; the dogma of the technologically apt. This is the new basis for community; who you will be shooting in the face online for a few hours during launch night.
I don't want to sound cynical about this part. This is perhaps the ONE redeeming factor of the lock step lemming culture that his become inexorably associated with gaming; a hobby known to outsiders as a breeding ground for addiction, introversion, and the socially ostracized. A hard to break, bad habit that is justified by the feel-goods within it as "harmless", when indeed, like anything, it has the capability to be incredibly harmful in the hands of the irresponsible, even if said harm is laser focused only on the wallet; the financial burden of the people buying into it.
Community is the one good thing that comes as a result of the industry, which is as manufactured and synthetic as it was in its infancy, when the addictive quality of Pong was siphoning quarters from the pockets of drunks around America. Only now, it is more insidious, harder to escape; and the compulsion loop of addiction it relies on to stay relevant mixed with nostalgic marketing in order to capture the hearts of the fools that subscribe to its "values" is far more toxic than it ever has been. And review culture is at least partially to blame.
"Someone else has justified my decision to purchase this item with an arbitrary number, in large, colored font on their front page. I have been given permission to purchase."
Console reviews are pointless shit. A breakdown is all that is necessary. If a full review comes at all, it should at least wait until the third year of production, when it is really fair to make a judgement, based on the available software and the continuing TREND of practices that the developer has implemented over a long period of time.
Console reviews are based on promises, and potential.
They don't give kids spelling bee trophies for one day being able to spell the word Logorrhea.
Rob Ford here, perhaps better known THESE days as “the man who has unspecified allegations against him which do not pertain to this particular piece of writing so why bother mentioning them.” In my youth, I wrote a good yarn or two which I still keep pinned up in the fridge of my house. One of them was a story about a bunch of bird who thought the sky was falling, and it was a satire on a previously written, perhaps more famous story with a similar theme.
Right now, I have to be honest with you, the future of my career is a little uncertain. I was sitting in front of my computer after a long day of dealing with the camera wielding SCUMBAGS out on my street, God bless them, they are just doing their jobs, when I decided it was time to try my hand at a bit of the ol' writing just in case things go south for yours truly, Rob Ford, the now, still, CURRENT, Mayor His HONOR of Toronto, HOW DARE anyone say otherwise?
GOT CRACK? NOT THIS MAYOR! NOT ANYMORE
I want to teach the children not to follow in my example. Yes, I made mistakes. Yes, I regret them. Yes, they have led to the fragmentation of my reputation, and to the possible end of my career. Does that make me a bad mayor? Well I can tell you this, I am as red blooded as any other Canadian out there, and I too put my pants on with a pair of twelve inch “reaching prongs”, just like you, in the AM of each day. But I have done some things that the Jews might say, aren't Kosher, a term I most frequently associate with their delicious bagels. (I'm told a little self-deprecation is a good way to grab your audience, hope I'm doin' it right here.)
Anyways, I want to talk directly to THE KIDS about issues, and one of the issues I have is with a little game called Grand Theft Auto V. Like Nintendo and Mario before it, Grand Theft Auto V is a “video game”, an “interactive” or “digital” “simulation” made for entertainment purposes. But unlike the cheery Pac-Man roaming through mazes and gobbling up tiny glowing balls (NOT unlike some of the reporters who have been following me around town these past few weeks LOL) it contains some “dubious” material.
Drugs, which I am totally against, cannot possible ever condone, and organized crime, which I am even less likely to condone and am even more against (or maybe the same, I just want to press here that I am TOTALLY AGAINST BOTH OF THEM, LIKE, MORE THAN A LOT) are the main objective, or “goal” of the game. You play as a gangster who wants to ruin the streets of Los Sandros, a sort of “virtual” Toronto, corrupting it with drugs, and criminal behaviour.
Let me tell you, I don't usually play video games. I'm a busy man. Wife, and kids, the wife with a HUGE sexual appetite. So when I ran into a virtual strip club in the game I DECLINED the amazingly GRAPHIC lap dance the game offered me; disgusting filth. You think I need that pussy? My wife has a cavernous cunt the size of goddamn Guantanamo Bay. Her labia is as red and swollen as fucking Kwirk from all the time I spend wrapping my meaty lips around it and sucking VISCIOUSLY in order to fulfill her wanton lust. My house is a stink fest of freely running vag juice, a biome of pulsating orgasmic rhythm, moans and sighs; hell, why the fuck would I need to go to a brothel these days? My wife pretty much has one writhing in her drawers. And I don't even have to tip.
THIS IS A MOUTH THAT'S READY...FOR MY WIFE THAT IS, SWEETHEART, NOT YOU!!!
The graphics are exceedingly real, but not nearly as real as a run in with Miami cops. I mean, 1999 was a different sort of culture altogether. It was almost cool to have a buzz on while you drove. Now? Shit man, I don't even know whats what anymore. The world has gone fucking crazy. I just hope it doesn't rub off on our good city of Toronto, and become a problem here...I'm being a little cheeky. I do understand that what I did wasn't right. But I never smoked any dope, and those pigs can never say otherwise. Bullshit.
There is an online multiplayer component to the game but I prefer to stay offline as much as possible right now. Partially because of Twitter, and partially because of TWATTER, if you know what I mean. It's a joke. I'm just trying to say I have so much slippery slit in my face on a daily basis that I don't have time for that internet bullshit. Seriously, grown men actually play these games when they could be out cramming some serious pudding with their smegma maker? Makes no sense. The youth these days. Things have gone all to shit.
In short, Call of Duty is a game that won't be for everyone, but it especially isn't for kids. If someone were to ask me, “Robby, baby, would you recommend Grand Theft Auto V to the children?” I would reply in like fashion:
But only in a drunken stupor, which you kids shouldn't be taking part in anyways.
Now, back to what I do best, in the hopes that everything goes smoothly for old Rob “pussycakes” Ford. Right now, things are a bit uncertain, but like a wise man once said; "they can take away my mayoral power as the Mayor of This Fair City Of TORONTO, But they can't Take away my Playstation." I still have my radio show The City, where me and my bro talk about street life, politics, and the installation of handicap ramps in government buildings, but who knows...maybe we will move into the podcasting biz if this game shit takes off for me?
HEY BRO HOPE U DONT MIND I USE OUR PICTURE
I can see it now. "The Fordz". Or "Soldierz of Fordune". Or "Ford Wickedly." Something like that. It will probably be popular; but not as popular as my wifes pussy is swollen and red from the ravenous scrape of my cat-like, sandpaper tongue.
Get it? Its dry. From all the pussy I've been eating.
"Ohh damn! Oh shit! Ohh no, son! Oh, fuck that! Oh, snap! Oh, shit, I ain't signed up for this shit! Oh snap! Shit! Damn!"
This is the campaign for Battlefield 4 in a nutshell. A microcosm of a much larger game that offers nothing remotely appealing or interesting in comparison to the giant sandbox of glitches which it is overshadowed by.
AND WHAT A SANDBOX IT IS!
The first thing you will notice about Battlefield 4 is how well the grass is rendered. You will stare at the horizon, admiring the clouds. You will take a dip in the shimmering video game water, just a little swim to cool yourself down. Ah. So refresh.
Then you will be shot in the face by a soldier. What side does he fight for? What nationality is he? What kind of war is this, anyways? Does this game exist in a universe of perpetual war, comprised only of a few major metropolitan areas and some conveniently placed jeeps and boats? What is going on? How did I get here? Where did I put my car keys? And why is that young man yelling homosexual insults over his microphone?
You lay in the grass, a bloody pile. A friend, whom you have never met, drops a medpack next to you. He runs off, and a sniper shoots you the second you revive. You repeat this for many hours.
The game has a built in method of controlling your new, addictive past time. It's an ingenious feature which should be implemented in all future multiplayer shooter games. When things get too intense, the second you begin to get immersed in this world of eternal warfare, the game suddenly crashes and reminds you that you exist in 3D reality, on the planet Earth. You get angry, but the baby crying in the next room reminds you that you have earthly duties to perform, and so you take a break. It's amazing how it can detect the urgency of other things in your life and remind you to attend to them; a true feat of programming genius.
You will have fun when playing Battlefield. You will look at the action on the screen and say "awesome." And then something will happen that will be undesirable, and the immediate thrill will dissipate, but you will still lean back in your chair, a smug smile on your face as you nod with approval; "this was a good way to spend my day", you might say to yourself as you take a sip of your orange crush, and feel a cat nuzzling your ankle, desperately seeking attention. "Not now, Mortimer. I am playing Battlefield 4. And I am loving it."
The game has tanks if you are into that sort of thing. And planes. And the objective of both is to navigate in a circular motion around the perimeter of the map while shooting as many virtual clones of the same player as you can in an attempt to frustrate and demoralize him so he hopefully quits the game, leaving one less body on the map for you to contend with. There are helicopters, and your objective while piloting those is to not crash. It's a challenging experience that lends a lot of depth to rest of the gameplay. You can go on foot if you'd like, too, but you will be attacked and killed by a sniper, who, just like in real life, will be standing and strafing as he fires upon you. It's very realistic that way.
Parachutes can be deployed several feet from the ground, because this is future warfare. And they will prevent you both from ankle sprains and instant death. Every soldier has a parachute on, because in the future, gravity is unstable. The poles have shifted, and dogs and old folks spontaneously fly into the stratosphere without a moments notice. Maybe this is what the war is all about, but don't think about it too much.
What is there to be said about Call of Duty? It is a war simulator, one not much unlike real war. For if, as a soldier, one were to configure their control scheme in the middle of a firefight, one would certainly find themselves dead on the ground, would they not? In this and many other ways it is an accurate representation of blood and battle. For man was meant to do harm against his brother and his brother harm against him. In the thousands of years man have lived, very few have been without war. So where does Call of Duty stand on the long list of current video games wherein the subject is, or pertains, to the subject of WAR?
I submit that it does.
There are many guns in the new Call of Duty. There are dog companions. These companions can be utilized at the WHIM of the user in order to attack and defeat the enemy. A boundary has been crossed; the Woman is now allowed to partake in the war. She brazenly stands amidst the fire of battle wearing only a ponytail to protect her from the MANY BULLETS that traverse the atmosphere of the digital field. The brazen woman is a post-modern feminist of the highest degree. This is a great change for the Call of Duty series that plunges it into the morass of modernity.
So far I have been enjoying the game. I sit back in a slight recline, controller tightly clamped between white knuckled fingers. The tension causes my anus to clench. My teeth grit down to the roots. The bag of Cheetos sits STALE on the counter from NEGLECT; the excitement is too much to bear. But then the ringing on my ears begins. It increases in volume, gradually, until it reaches excruciating heigh
The congressman stood on the podium. The people were clapping. The one armed man stared at him from the crowd; he could feel his sweat drops being probed by the mans wandering blue eye. As he made his promises, the crowd erupted in uproarious applause. His stomach turned at the sight of an old shriveled woman, with Beelzebub grin; a mouthful of yellowed teeth.
The one armed man walked towards him. Droplets of stress water leaked down to his lower extremeties, and collected in the folds between his fat stomach; folds created by years of sedentary relaxation; a metaphor for his lack of inactivity on office. The one armed man knew this, and pointed the bloody stub of his arm in his direction. Flashes, erotic images, passed through the mans mind. He felt his cock twinge, slightly, going half erect.
"YOU DID IT IT WAS YOU" The one armed man doth spake.
And then the congressman knew; the wife. The woman at the bar.
It was the one armed mans wife, all along. And soon, he would pay for his sins.
The primary method of Game Play in Call of Duty Ghost is to engage in a multiplayer affair over an internet connection with anonymous, young, supple opponents. Smooth skinned ten year olds will yell at you viciously through microphone, their innocence taken from them with the age of anonymity. The Decline of the West comes full circle with this realization, as a panic seizes your heart; this is not the way the world is meant to be. But play on you will. Your pathetic attraction to material things and entertainment demands your full participation.
A Hollywood movie mentality penetrates the entire experience, swabbing it with wet, Michael Bay inspired pre-cum. You wonder about life, for a moment; is this what it is meant to be? The game sits in bins, untouched, in stores across America as dust collects in the folds of the cheap plastic used to wrap it. A Best Buy employee stands on the top of a ladder and screams, emptying his bowels on to the SD card rack below.
My head aches. The throbbing will not stop. When will these penetrating screams s=jj
"This is the city you helped to create."
The burning image of lady Theotokos, imprinted on a bottle of Absolut Vodka the congressmen had been wrapping his fat, wormy lips around, had guided him into the alley way between the nightclub and the bowling alley. There were cats, everywhere. Cats, pawing at one another, chewing the matted fur from their paws; fucking in the dark. A tabby opened it's gaping maw, and made several loud wailing sounds, and the head of a rat began to poke its way out. Suddenly, dozens of cats were giving birth to dozens of rats, orally; the rats left streaks of slime behind them as they scurried into the darkness.
A homeless man was seen, masturbating furiously in the dark, clenching his manhood with a filth stained hand.
He winked at the congressman, who vomited upon himself and passed out on the pavemen
In short, Call of Duty is a limited experience, a microcosm of our falling society today. It would receive a score, but numbers are unbecoming as the summation of the full experience. It will make you question your resolve to subsist in the modern world. You will be tested, physically, and mentally. And like many of your peers, you will fail to transcend the experience.