#literally fuck splice mobile this did not have to take 2 hours
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cain instinct
#heimerdinger#stilted robemaker#video#my meme#literally fuck splice mobile this did not have to take 2 hours#some helpful prev features got locked behind Pro subscription now so I had to just juggle the edits between seperate videos grrrrrrr#Heimer and Stilts siblings will always be canon in my heart
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DiRT Rally -- DORIFUTO NO NO NO
I've never been a believer in superstitions, magics, or the occult. But if one day I happen to come across a shooting star, I would like to make a wish so that a time machine can be a real thing that's functional within my lifetime so I can go back in time, punch past me in the face, and ask myself "What the fuck were you thinking? Why did you buy this game?". Granted, it was my friend that invited me to buy DiRT Rally on the basis that it can be played together for shits and giggles to tide us over until the next MHW updates. But really, what was I thinking? The last racing game I touched within years was Need for Speed: Most Wanted, and the most recent game that fits the bill is Euro Truck Simulator 2. And comparing ETS2 to DiRT Rally is like comparing me to Mick Jagger. One's big, slow, and mundane, while the other is flashy, popular, and probably involves cocaine at some point.
Oh but whatever, you don't come to me to listen about my story, you come here for my assessments about games, so here we go. Consider this to be what happens when a rally scouting agent got so piss-drunk that he thinks signing up a truck driver as a rally driver is a good idea. Hmm, actually let's roll with that, let's do up with some role-play to keep things interesting.
So let me present you the story of how a truck driver's world went upside down after being signed up as a rally driver, starring Mr. Johnny Tanktop
Hello there, my name is Johnny Tanktop. I am a truck driver and part-time wifebeater. I was doing my usual round of stout at the local drinking hole when I noticed a guy had been eyeing me for a while. Finally after his fourth pint, he brisked his way over and sat on the empty stool beside me. My first thought was "there goes my bum's virginity". He spoke to me, and I soon find out that he's a rally team manager. Phew! I guess my bum will stay unsullied for a while. He's been going around scouting for fresh talent and I seem to fit the bill. Actually about half the fucking country would fit it too, since all he said he needed was ”a good pair of both limbs and a driving license”. Since he promised me good earnings with skills I'm already familiarized for a long time, I decided to take up his offer.
The next day, I went to the place he promised he’d meet me. It’s a run-down old garage next door to a grocery store. “This does not seem promising”, I thought to myself. I knocked on the door a few times, and he came to the door to let me in. To my surprise, he had nothing in his garage but an old computer hooked up to an even older monitor on a desk. He told me that he's about to teach me on how to be the best rally driver ever. When I pointed out to him the lack of automobile, he just laughs and pointed to the computer. Turns out it's filled with video clips of rally tutorials. You what? Are you really expecting me to be able to drive rough terrain at breakneck speeds after watching 5 videos? By that logic I should've been crowned king of the world from all the YouTube videos I've watched, along with everyone else! But whatever, no use whining now, might as well try to absorb whatever knowledge I can before I inevitably crash and burn, literally.
The videos are helpful in the same way as showing a presentation about genetic splicing to grade-schoolers. It's advanced shit with mumbo jumbo up the ass that you can't help but think that it was meant for people with way more knowledge than you, but you're supposed to nod your head and pretend that you know about the subject matter anyway. I mean you can tell me all about weight distribution, traction, pitch, yaw, but they're very much useless unless I feel it myself while driving. Like for example, what the hell is a "Scandinavian Flick"?
Personally, that's what I call "finger-banging a nordic woman"
These videos does not help me in any way whatsoever because these are all theories. You know what would help me? A practice track. A real one, the one with cones, the one with courses focused on certain aspects of driving, the one with an automobile instead of a 14-inch CRT monitor. I believe a practice track is super important, and not having one is going against common sense. I mean what? Are rally drivers born with a stick shift in hand and starts drifting in their baby strollers by the age of 4? But after all has been said, I noticed that the manager has already fallen asleep about halfway through my rant. I woke him up, and somehow all he took from it is that I'm ready to race. Seeing how there's nothing else to do, I begrudgingly agreed on it anyway.
It's on to professional career it is
So the boss man gave me a set amount of cash. I used the majority of it to buy the shittiest car from 1960 from a nearby dealer. I notice that there are loads of varieties of cars, just teasing me with cutting-edge technology, 6 gears, and a chassis not made out of repurposed biscuit tin. I think this is a tactic to tempt me into working hard so one day I can afford those hot rides, but I don't care. I then meet up with the manager and turns out he's already enlisted me into a rally in Greece. He told me to get ready, but all I can hear is "I've chosen this lovely countryside road as your grave spot. Don't forget to sign the insurance papers, also can you tell me your next of kin?". But you know what? I'm in too deep this time. I've gone and bought a car, I watched all the videos, might as well pretend I'm professional now. Hearts and minds, right?
Well few days later and I'm actually in Greece. As far as I can tell, this is some real shit that's going on. They got tents, officials, I even got a faceless stranger to fill in as my co-driver. Hang on now, shouldn't my co-driver be someone I know? Shouldn't one of my friends that I've trained and bonded with be the co-driver? Also shouldn't you teach me what the fuck his signals fucking meant? What the fuck is '90 turn left actual'? What the hell is a 'joker'? Why do we have to take it? I'm not in a fucking bat-mobile, am I? Is rally driving just a part of the Batman training program?
I think I know where this is going
I mean the 2 minute tutorial is unfair enough, but withholding some information is just fucking with us. You know what? Fuck. This. I'm gonna drive anyway. Whatever happens, happens. So off I go to the starting line in my car. Helmets on, seat-belts buckled, next-of-kin notified, light turns green, and pedal to the metal. I was in control for a while until my robotic co-driver spouts more of his nonsense. All I can do is try to comprehend his speech and wing it. Three more turns and there I was; face down, ass up, and holding on to dear life. Although the officials might've been fucking Merlin and Gandalf because my flipped car got teleported back into the upright position and neither me or my co-driver suffered any damage. I got out of the car, about to see my manager and give him a piece of my mind, but soon I found out that he's nowhere to be found. All I can find is a ticket back home and word that he's took off to find newer talent. With a heavy heart, I decide to retire immediately, fly back home, and do what I do best: trucking and occasional spouse-beating
Well, that about summarizes my experience with the single player content, now let's talk about the reason I bought the game: multiplayer
So here we are, me and my 2 friends, about to have a race together. I asked them about how the game's been treating them so far, and turns out it's the first time they launched the game and that I'm the one with the most experience. Ho ho ho! I can already imagine how this night will turn out! Instead of one inexperienced driver crashing his car, there will be THREE inexperienced driver crashing their cars. But whatever, we tried it anyway... With the expected results. Turns out we are all terrible and have none the slightest knowledge on how to drive rally. It was madness! If this was a real rally event, I could already imagine the people watching this bursting into tears with laughter at this amateur hour. I'm sure we just became the three biggest idiots on the race track. There's one guy who always gets a time penalty over 30 seconds, another guy that always has one of his tires flew off no matter what cars he used, and then there's me: going as slow as chauffeuring an old lady with a heart condition through a crowded school zone. But the funniest thing is that I still win because the others fuck up more. At least that was the case until they find the brilliant strategy of ramming me off the goddamn road, those wonderful human beings.
Aside from fucking around on the track however, there is nothing else entertaining we could find. I mean there's only like 2 tracks available, and crashing ourselves silly can only carry so much gameplay. There are actually more tracks that we can unlock, but unfortunately, to unlock it, we have to progress through the campaign, which means doing that sign reading type of rally that we can't do. And that means we can't progress any further because we aren't actually interested in the gameplay to begin with. So we all said "what the hell" and promptly forget about the game and never speak of it again.
In Brief
It only takes 2 hours of gameplay for me to know what kind of game this is. This is a game for enthusiasts (and by enthusiasts, I mean maniacs). The kind of guy that owns steering wheel controllers they welded into a deck while sitting on a repurposed leather seat from a Mercedes. The kind of guy that wanks to pictures of cars, all the while praising the angle in which it opens its doors. The kind of guy that knows all about your engine problem but lacks the mechanical skill to actually fix it. The kind of guy that brags about his fastest lap times in the game but has to bribe the DMV after the 22nd failed attempt on his driving license.
Slamming aside, that's really all I can say about the game, because this game simply isn't for me. I do not own the necessary knowledge or passion to pass judgement to this game. So take my words as mere winds passing through a valley. I really should've ended it with a race-themed metaphor, but I don't care.
27/11/2019
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