Modern Warfare 2 has minimized the perks from its predecessor and upped the collective of weapons you can dispose of your fellow enemy with. To be fair, there is an amazing selection that makes for extremely balanced warfare. From Sentry turrets to Sniper Rifles, and from Tactical Nukes to the almighty combat blade; to which I have developed a big fat hard on for.

Since the dawn of time, man has loved to produce sharp things to stab and slice things with. Regardless of what belief system you have, it is true. Evolution had the Precambrian Monkey Men smacking rocks into sharp instruments to plant into the skull of some other hairy dude that fucked his food collecting, flare bush of a misses. That, and they also liked to hunt with it, but who cares about civilized killing for procreation?

In the Christian bible the first siblings to ever be given mention; Kane and Able, had a jealousy problem with each other so Kane decided it would be in his best interests to shank his only brother to solve the issue of who God would love the most...obviously the tactic did not work, but the stabbing sure as hell did.

Fast forward to today, the knife has so many uses that they have to put about fifty different kinds into one and call it a Swiss army tool. But if it isn't big enough to see your face in it's reflective blade, then who cares? The following statistics are taken from my favorite custom class, and collectively, they practically make me Sonic the Hedgehog welding knives and guns...on speed.



- Class Name: The Runner

- Title: Impaler

- Primary Weapon: UMP45 Sub Machine Gun with Red Dot Sight: Light and automatic with decent accuracy.

- Secondary Weapon: AA-12 Automatic Shot Gun: Light weight with decent spread for close encounters.

- Special Equipment: Recoverable Throwing Knife: Difficult to use but oh, so satisfying

- Perk 1: Marathon - Unlimited sprinting and fast ladder climbing.
- Perk 2: Lightweight - Quick on my feet and quick aim after sprinting.
- Perk 3: Commando - Can leap further at somebody with a knife and not take damage from falls.



Needless to say, this class was set up for the simple pleasure of being able to run around the map at top speed while sticking my blade into every single opponent that has the unfortunate fate of crossing paths with me.

I am difficult to hit with a sniper rifle, I am hard to catch with a spray of gun fire and by the time an enemy has seen me, I usually have a blade stuck in their face...

I wait for a challenge...bring it mother fuckers, my knife needs to be fed.



P.S - Whatever you do, don't google knife fight...it ain't pretty

Yeah, yeah. I know people. I know that this issue has been talked to death. But I am not here to talk about the level in question (to which I morbidly got great satisfaction from playing). I am here to discuss this issue that is; What the fuck is wrong with everybody?!

Most of the population (including many individuals of Destructoid) have stated that the 'No Russian' section of Modern Warfare 2 is of bad taste and it could have been extracted from the game entirely without weakening the title. All I can say is, put some cement in your breakfast cereal and harden the fuck up.

If you want to argue the point that games are just as much for adults as they are children, you would appreciate the fact that a game developer has gotten the balls to do what most wouldn't even consider after it being brought up by designers in the development stage. Yes, it is difficult to watch given the fact that we are watching innocent civilians being massacred, but last time I checked...These things happen...a lot. I don't know if it is just me, but I am sick to death of the people up on high thinking that the best way to avoid the issues of the world is to pretend they don't even exist. I don't want things sugar coated, I want the bare back truth. Not some collared up, pink polo shirt version of it.



Yes, shit happens and yes, we have the power to either cause it or fight against it, and the fact that Infinity Ward have decided to man up and say "This is what the world can be like so have a good hard look" is something I think most pessimistic fuck heads should consider to be a wake up call more than a Columbine wanna-be simulator for the one in every millionth teenager with stability issues and access to daddy's gun cabinet.

The problem with this World is that most people are so ashamed of what it has become that they believe you are better off without eyes, so you can't see the horror of the shit hole it has become thanks to human nature. Try and remove my eyes and I (as Edward Norton so poetically described), this button-down, Oxford-cloth psycho that I am, might just snap, and then stalk from office to office with an Armalite AR-10 carbine gas-powered semi-automatic weapon, pumping round after round into colleagues and co-workers.



Oh wow...I do have a killer in me after all, as I am sure you do.

P.S - On a more gameristic (I just made that up) note I am so glad I have finished writing this so I can go back to Modern Warfare 2, aside from the menu's, it is one of the greatest gaming experiences I have ever played through.

This is going to have a little bit more of a serious tone to it because I have been up all night thinking about...life. Now before you all start to facepalm yourselves and think of me as an emo, hear me out because gaming and you, yes you, have a part in this and because of this I want you to try to understand it.

Some people look at certain means of entertainment and write it off their list before they can even comprehend the greatness of it. In fact we all do it. But I didn't come here to piss and moan about everybodies faults. We all have them, so why should I care about what your faults are when I have faults of my own that need sorting out? Perhaps the most fucked up thing about our faults is that we rarely even know what they are. Other people from a distance can make an assessment built up over time, but we as individuals can't for the life of us, change, without being able to safely say, "I am at fault here" or "I need to improve there" and it usually takes a long time for your brain to convince your heart to go ahead with attempting to create a better future for yourself by going through the forced but necessary changes.

I honestly don't know where the fuck I am going with this, but I know the reason I came on dtoid this morning was to make a point. A very important point.

We all go through shit at one point or another and when it happens it is like being put into a blender with a fuck load of doubt, fear and self conciseness. The amount of shit a person goes through in life is irrelevant...but what is relevant, is how the person feels while going through the shit. If somebody is down and out, who are you (and who am I for that matter) to judge the degree in which a person should be pissed of at the world.



I have heard hundreds of people tell me that people are starving on the other side of the world and I should be greatful for what I have and who I have in my life. Fair enough, but if I am going through a bad state the last thing that is going to be going through my head is Keuth Fanarong...or something(My sponsor child from some bum-fuck-nowhere village...thing) and how he has to carry water buckets to the river and back every day. Sure, he's got it bad. But try as I might to give a fuck about Keuth in a time of personal change, my focus is on what is changing around me.

I still don't know where the fuck I am going with this and it probably makes no sense at all.

So where am I going with this Hailey Berry Oscar speech of a blog entry? A good friend of mine is going through some pretty difficult changes at the moment, and while many would consider these changes to be mediocre and not worth giving three fucks about, I consider these changes to be life altering. And anything life altering is serious fucking business.

Tonight while listening, talking and offering my support, I started to think about the times I have had to face myself or a forced act of change without wanting to submit to it. And sure it saddened me a little to think about shit like that, but through thinking about that depressing, wahhh wahhh, Nanbu styled bullshit, I came to a very special and important revelation...

Gaming has gotten me through some fucking HARD times, and it has always delivered. I am this solider once I put in Cod4, I am this driver in Midnight Club:LA, I am this fucked unit tearing others apart with chainsaws on machine guns in Gears of War. And through progressive gaming, film viewings, friendships and writing I got through it all. As have many others, as have probably you.

So, I'd like to tip my hat to gaming and everybody involved in it by saying a big cheers for getting me through the shit in the past and sticking around for the future. (Hope I don't get hit by a car today because it will kind of take away the meaning of this Ricky Lake story).

So, long story short (And I know for a fact you didn't read the whole thing because I wouldn't), thanks guys.



Moses Dillinger

P.S - What the fuck did I just write? And where the fuck did I get that from? ... Eh, I'm going to bed, its 10am now and I have been up since 9am yesterday. So, yeah...bye.

P.P.S - Wait, before I go, you need to see my Dad's opinion of video games, I filmed him and put something together I hope Dtoid will enjoy.

P.P.P.S - Click on the link in P.P.S

P.P.P.P.S - The statement in P.P.P.S is a direct order from the leader of your country...but since most people hate others above them, disregard that and suck cocks.

P.P.P.P.P.S - Add me on facebook here

P.P.P.P.P.P.S - I just had the most amazing piss of my life, and I sat down to take it.

We have a robot for our mascot, hence we shit on everything on the internet without even trying. What Mechwarrior and Neon Genesis started, Destructoid has completed. If you fuck with us, we will fist your anus with a robotic cannon. FTW.



While most commoners believe gaming is for fat losers that don't have lives, we know better. While for the most part it might be true, we embrace the life we have and don't deny that we are part of a different breed of human.

When the second coming of Christ comes upon the world in the form of my first son being pushed out of his mothers vagina, the world will soon come to a shattering end. But we, being the mighty mother fuckers that we are, will be uplifted and loved and saved without repentance.

If you are on Destructoid, you play games. If you play games, you are not welcome in paradise, because you are already fucking in it.

Amen.



While Destructoid is based on gaming, there are many people who use Destructoid as a way of venting about other things in life.

Sexual frustration, 4chan, lack of love, being too pale from lack of vitamin D, music, film, bestiality...the list goes on. Hell, my interview with Dillinger Escape Plan was one of the most commented blogs I have written and most people have no idea who the fuck they are. Which says one thing...you guys need to know your music better.



No shit people, I don't know the guy that well. In fact, I don't know him at all. But his story on Destructoid is something you could make a B Grade movie from which is more than I can say for our boring ass lives. He is also living proof that with dedication and skill you can be picked up on and given what you deserve.

When I first joined Destructoid, I wrote masses of shit in a very uncaring manner 'What's changed?' some of you will say. It was only I witnessed this video that Mr. Sterling put together telling his story as a coked up Sonic the Hedgehog, thanking Niero and Destructoid, that I thought to myself, "This is what it is all about! And this is a story that has true heart behind it".

As I said, I don't know Jim that well, and I haven't been here that long, but it didn't take me long to learn that his story is one you have to respect, regardless of whether you enjoy his written pieces or not (Don't answer until you read this). You gotta tip your hat to the guy...from being a blogger like most of us to becoming the reviews editor of a successful gaming site. It's a fucken constructive and entertaining story. Write a book, Jim. I'd read it.



Trolls...they enrich our writing and reading lives because at the end of the day; how can we appreciate greatness without first recognizing shit. Much like how a person needs to fail before they can succeed, as a collective we cannot know true art without first establishing ball sweat.

While the internet as a whole has many trolls. Destructoid has a select few.But my personal favorite to laugh at is Kyousuke Nanbu. And I would give you an example of his elite trolling abilities, but all you really need to do is read this, write something he doesn't approve of and then wait for him to make a hypocrite out of himself.

Seriously, Nanbu, you (like every troll before you) are the result of a woman shitting into a toilet and having the sperm from the previous male occupant splash up into her vagina. Sometimes things just happen that we have no say in...9/11, the columbine massacre, Aids...and You.

Time to start writing your paragraphs of overdone insults buddy, I need a laugh.



While many people believe blogging to be a waste of time. Niero has proved otherwise. The following has been copied and pasted from Destructoid's own history because I couldn't be fucked writing it into my own words due to it being explained well enough here:

The company began as a one man blog: It was Yanier Gonzalez's childhood dream to run a hardcore video gamer's club -- a dream later revived when at he was denied entrance to the E3 press conference in 2006 because he wasn't one of the press. Using "Niero" as his pen name, Yanier created a critical blog overnight with indie programmer Tom Lackner's new ElephantBlog software that dared to call out rampant, misleading PR in games media -- picking up an instant readership at the height the HD gaming boom. The site's popularity soared when it began biting the hands that fed it, protesting "stuffy games journalism" at the event by showing up in a giant robot helmet as "Mr. Destructoid" (now the Destructoid mascot). With a solid readership and a memorable brand to boot the company opened an office to turn its sights on better serving the gamer community at large, and the rest is history.

What a story of success. To go from what most of us do on here to living a life supported by it. It truly is a dream being lived.



Lets face it, wherever there is money, there are suits with dollar signs for eyes and contracts demanding you let them fuck your anus for more cash. Trust me, I shamefully work at EB games and I see the anal raping first hand. It is like watching a wolf in sheep's clothing woo the Ewe into presenting, then watching the Ewe get ripped apart while a bunch of other wolves come out and start an animalistic bukakke in praise of the rape at hand.

While Destructoid is a site which obviously makes money. Money has always seemed to be a distant second in the listing of what is important to the overall feel of Destructoid. These guys know what they are talking about and have a true love for what it is they are involved in. They don't just love their gaming but they love their community. And it is obvious because they don't sit up high above the community with a god complex demanding we choke on their dicks and drown in their vagina's.



No matter how serious a post is, there is always an element of fun behind it. It doesn't take long to pick up on the overall feel of Destructoid, and the writing from everybody becomes part of that overall collective humor. In the short time I have been here I have witnessed multiple comment wars, drunk blogs, personal opinions and much useless information written in a constructive and entertaining manner.

Most people log on to the internet to check their facebook, myspace, twitter or whatever retarded social structure of digital masturbation they have going on to keep their closed off lives fulfilled with 'friends'. Destructoid has pretty much come to be that for me. And it is because it never tries to take itself too seriously and always has the same advice at the end of the day, which is STFUAJPG. Great advice.



I don't know about the rest of you, but I find myself writing about video games nearly as much as I play them. Which I never thought could be possible. Possibly the greatest thing about video game journalism is the dedication its readers have to the cause and the strong opinions they have towards it.

It is very rare that you will have somebody Neutral in a discussion to do with gaming and because of this, it creates great feedback which a community can become involved in. Given, some blogs you put effort into don't get the recognition you would have expected or would have personally liked. But at the end of the day, who gives a shit. Writing has always been more about putting down onto paper Or in this case onto a digital document what is in your heart and your head. The aftermath, being people giving the thumbs up or down and an explanation into why they feel like they do about your thoughts, is an interesting process.

In the end, I just love to write, and Destructoid makes that easy for me to do with readers that contribute their thoughts, retarded or not.



There are plenty of video game related websites around. I remember becoming a member of IGN in 1999 when it was smaller than Destructoid. Somewhere along the line, being a member meant you were a customer and it was around that time that I walked away.

The collective that makes up Destructoid is where the greatness comes from.

I have been around the internet like a cheap hooker. Whoring myself out to see if anybody notices and what I have come to realize and love about Dtoid is that even if you write something, the feedback is genuine Unless of course you are a fuckwit that writes shit.

I have noted on several occasions that I thoroughly enjoy the community here at Destructoid. At one end we have a group of talented professionals who are payed to run the site with a consistently entertaining flow of news feeds, reviews and personal opinions to bite. At the other end, we have cyber-abortions like Kyousuke Nanbu flooding the veins of the internet with uninformed, untalented babble that makes Eminem look like Shakespeare. And of course, what comes in between is you. The reader, the writer and the contributor, whom makes places like Destructoid have a much more personal aspect to them.

Most Destructoidians have different reasons as to why they write what they do, but at the end of the day it is a process which they have taken time out of their lives to put something up for the rest of the collective to check out and hopefully enjoy. In particular, the Cblog Recaps and Hamza's highlights prove that there is a community there and if you write something that is worth while, it will get the attention it deserves. Hell, even if you write a pile of shit, you will get a collective mention in the fail blogs.

I have been topsaused, failblogged and mentioned a few times and while most people on here would have no idea who the fuck I am, the idea that there is a group of people committed to putting out there for others, the collective works that are worth reading for better or for worse, is an idea that brings us together and makes writing worth while.

Cheers Destructoid, you can fuck my mother anytime!

P.S - Not to ruin the article with spam, but if you could contribute some questions to the Australian Destructoid Podcast, it would add to the whole unity shit that I was talking about. UNITY MOTHER FUCKERS! Unify or get the fuck away from me!

It was my first trip to the States and I didn't know what to expect. Things weren't going so well for me back home and I felt the best thing for me was to just vacate for a while, so vacate I did. I had gotten into trouble a while back, while behind the wheel in a legit race I became responsible for the death of my navigator, best mate and above all, my brother. While the accident reoccurred in my mind time after time the chargers inflicted on me by the law weren't enough to stop me for getting my travel Visa and head overseas while I attempted bury the past and find my place in the world anew.

My Visa soon expired and the plane was waiting to take me home, but I wasn't on it. I was enjoying the life I had just gotten started properly. So without a working Visa, I needed employment that would keep me off the grid. No bank accounts and no social security numbers. With my previous experience with working on cars it didn't take me long to snap up a decent cash paying job in a custom auto repairs and mods shop near the East Coast about a hundred miles north of the Mexican boarder, in a small town called Lamar. It was low key but it had a large dedicated clientele due to the excellent service as well as the under the counter kinds of work that most of the bigger auto chains would stray away from due to the repercussions they would have to deal with if caught out by the man. I guess that's why they didn't mind paying me in cash, and they payed well.



I had started to build some acquaintances through the auto shop though I usually kept to myself and out of trouble. The last thing I wanted was to be deported back home. Most of the people I got to know were young guns looking for export rides or parts which our shop excelled in. Many of them left the shop content, so it was only natural that we would see them again with a smile on their face and a few wads of cash in their hands. Being from Australia where the street racing scene was practically dead it never crossed my mind to think about what they were up to, but I was soon to find out.



I came in to the garage on a Sunday when nobody was in, to work on a ride I claimed. It came in as a wrecked BMW M3 GTR which everybody looked at with sorry eyes as if looking at a dying animal struggling for life but where most people saw a dead horse, I saw a sleeping Pegasus and I made it my personal mission to make it fly again. After months of my own personal time and money, it was where I wanted it to be. With the exterior and interior complete, all that it needed was to be driven in for the first REAL time.



I started the engine, it's rumble echoed in the garage, giving me goosebumps. I thought of putting some good tunes on but the thought quickly left my mind after listening to the music this car made as I put my foot down onto the accelerator in neutral. The remote garage door started to open as I rolled toward it, peaking the engine as I came to a stop. I was ready to throw it into first gear and send myself shooting onto the road when there, in the middle of the driveway, was this girl sitting in her hot red Mazda RX8.



My dreams of christening my new ride were quickly shattered however when I found out this AMAZING woman was an undercover police officer from the Rockport Police Department. Her name was Mia and she was quick to tell me that she has had her eye on me for some time, knows my history back home and is willing to grant me an extended Visa, maybe even permanent citizenship, if I agree to assist her in what she called the Rockport street racing lock down. I had to work my way into the heart of Rockport's top street racers known as the Black List 15, earn their trust through the rep I earn on the street and help Mia shut it down from the inside. Of course there was always more to it than what was first agreed upon. While I considered her offer quite appealing it quickly got a bad taste to it when she informed me that other authorities, including her own personal weren't to know of my involvement to avoid it leaking onto the streets. Which meant that it wasn't until I got the job done that she would vouch me a Green Card. This in turn left me with very few options to pick from;

1: Disagree, get deported
2: Agree, get caught by police, get deported.
3: Agree, all goes to plan, get some piece of mind knowing I did something good, possibly get deported.

None of these were great options but the latter proved to be the one with the most potential. So I agreed, closed up shop, explained to the boss I wouldn't be in for a while and left.This occurred just as I finished crossing the Lyndon B Johnson Causeway to enter Rockport:

I considered myself lucky and knew that if I was going to avoid the cops, I would need to get myself a navigator. Sure it seemed like a cheap way to ride in the underground, but having a wing man is better than finding myself in a situation where I would be getting bagged and tagged back to Australia. I got a long distance call card and used a public phone to contact my last and probably only good friend back home, Dish. He was stoked to hear from me and found the situation I was in to be quite humorous. Despite the fact he was stacking his chips for a new ride back home, he decided to put it on hold and fly up to assist me.



With Dish with me, I was able to relax and have a lot more fun with the whole endeavor. We worked our way up through the nobodies quite fast until it came time to race the first of the Black List racers, a smug prick named Razor, who, according to the word on the street, had been eying my car off for some time now. This was not good considering I had to put my ride on the line to race against a Black List racer. But it didn't worry me too much because Mia had also worked her way into the scene, but that wasn't hard for her to do with her amazing looks a persona. She was always in the background, watching over me and looking incredibly good in the process.

It was time to race Razor, and I was ready...or so I thought.

The race started off well enough, I had gotten the jump on him by letting him shift first and getting a good four meter lead. Traffic was an obstacle that would have been better off removed from the streets but I was always told by my brother that the obstacles can be used against others on the road. Razor had a lot more horse power in his ride, meaning that he could gain easily if given enough straight road to do so. I needed to keep him weaving to limit his throttle, thereby cutting off his chances of getting ahead of me. It was all going well, I had lost the lead in the industrial estate but regained in through the city run. I was coming to the final straight run and I knew this is where it would come down to a hairpin finish...but then my car started to stall, I quickly focused on my on-board computer to observe the problem but it was all going to shit. My ride came to a stop, Razor shot past me and through the finish line only a few hundred meters up.

I lost my ride and my rep, but I knew that they had messed with my car. Mia wasn't happy but she knew it wasn't my fault. So she hooked me up with a place to lye low.


I got myself a new ride and worked my way up the ranks with Dish, with each win I would attain a pink slip for a new ride that I would either keep for myself or sell off and use the money to mod my other rides. After months of paint swapping in street racers and write knuckle gripping during police pursuits I had built myself up to the number two spot on the Black List. Razor was all that stood between me and a citizenship in the U.S with the sweetest ride I had ever put together and the fact that he had it to get to where he is now, infuriated me.



The choice of race was up to me, and what better way to win back what was taken, then to succeed where I had once failed through no fault of my own. We went head to head on the same run I had previously lost my car in. On top of that, I figured it would only be justice if I was to knock him off the podium using the car he originally used to take mine. Everything played out as it did before, only this time it was to my advantage.

I knew the run, and I knew how to win...so win I did.


It was time for me to vacate. There was no way I could stick around here anymore, even with Mia vouching for me I wouldn't be able to drop the label of most hunted street racer around. After evading the 5.0, I stopped at the safehouse one last time. Mia was there, looking quite inviting...



So in the end, Mia and I shagged which was a reward on its own...words couldn't describe the things she could do with her tongue. In the end she couldn't get me a Green Card, not with all the shit I stirred up in the Rockport Police Department. We kept in touch and she came to Australia to visit me and in the end we got married anyway. So I was able to gain citizenship in the States the proper way after all.

Mia and I now work undercover for the L.A.P.D and are currently trying to break our way into a Street Racing syndicate known as the Midnight Club. I'll let you know how that one goes.

Keep in touch.

You heard it here first people...well, maybe. News is that the original king of horror and Spiderman film's has confirmed that he will direct the up coming World of Wafcraft movie. The following was taken from Slashfilm.com:



Sam Raimi, director of Evil Dead, Army of Darkness, the Spider-Man films, has signed on to direct a big screen adaptation of World of Warcraft, Blizzard Entertainment’s massively multiplayer online role-playing game (MMORPG). The scoop was first reported by AICN and later confirmed by Variety, who also reports that The Dark Knight producer Charles Roven is also on board. The current plan is for Raimi to supervise the development of the movie and to begin production after Spider-Man 4.

“At its core, ‘Warcraft’ is a fantastic, action-packed story,” Raimi said in a statement.

The game was first introduced in 1994, and now has more than 11.5 million monthly subscribers. Legendary Pictures has been developing the film project for a few years now. 300 producer Thomas Tull revealed at BlizzCon 2007 that the film would have a budget of over $100 million and was to be set one year before the events of WOW.

“We’re going to be looking for someone of Zak Snyder (300) or Chris Nolan (The Dark Knight, Batman Beings) caliber,” said Tull who revealed that the company is aiming for a PG-13 rating. “I can tell you that this is the one thing about running a studio and making these things that’s hard. You want to not compromise and have the right level of intensity. The story and the director’s vision is what’s ultimately going to dictate that. Personally one of my favorite movies of all time is Lord of the Rings, which has a PG-13 rating.”



At the time WOW players balked at the mention of a PG-13 rating, but this was before The Dark Knight broke that mold. I’m not sure how much of this is still relevant to the project considering Tull was also touting a 2009 release, and that obviously never came to pass.

I’ve never played World of Warcraft, and I have never quite understood the obsession with the game. I can tell you that I have lost friends to the fiction online world of fantasy, so it must be good. Having Raimi on board as director certainly makes me a lot more interested about the film adaptation. We all know how the movie would have looked with Uwe Boll in the director’s chair — probably something not even as good as Dungeons and Dragons.

PS - Listen to the Refused Classification podcast tonight to hear about it in a bit more detail. And ask some fucking questions!