Guitar Hero
RedOctane, PS2 (2006)
Play a real guitar, world
Life is rubbish. We all know
this, but we try and ignore it
by distracting ourselves from
the misery. Examples of this, Play
readers, include Eastenders, Stargate
SG-1 and Guitar Hero. It’s all about
escapism, you see, and everyone
wants to be a bloody rock star. Well,
humble reader, I have a terrifying
revelation for you: you don’t want to
be a rock star. Also, you hate your life.
Also, Guitar Hero is an appalling piece
of party fluff. When you have to begin
two consecutive sentences with
“also”, you know you have a problem.
I’m mad, you see. MAD! I live in
a world of faux guitar-mongering
freaks, and I’m finding it hard to deal
with. Where is the dignity in this?
Doesn’t anybody read any more, or
rob houses? No. They’re all piling
into their mate’s house on a rowdy
evening, gathering up the plastic
guitars and dodgy beer like a gaggle
of lost souls. Is it fun? Is
Guitar Hero
even fun? No. It’s merely one of those
things, you see, that other people
force you to do. You don’t want to do
it, you don’t have to it, but you do it.
It’s called life.
Thus, we reach around to the initial
point: life is rubbish.
One of Guitar Hero’s problems is
the controller. Buying the game with
the controller is a must, of course,
but you could stand to lose around
50 pounds in doing so. This ridiculous
item has no other use in modern
society, remember, so you can put
ideas of that Golden Axe port you
desired in the shitter. Why, after all,
couldn’t you use it as an axe? You
could even use that strumming
button to tear up their bones. Classic.
In any case, it’ll just make you
angry. In three years, for example,
it’ll be sat in front of your TV doing
nothing, whilst you try and remember
the reason you fell in love with it to
begin with.
Guess what, folks? You never loved
it. You always hated it inside, but
“people” pressured you into it with
mindless ecstasy, while you took it
like a great generic faffer. Grow up
now, people! Grow up before you’re
made to imitate The Ramones
forever, or are forced to change your
name to “Snake Boner” because the
game told you to do so.
Is that the end of the rant, then?
No. I should probably end this on an
existential note, or a Haiku. Better
yet, I’ll do both. On an existential level,
Guitar Hero undermines us all on a
deeply subconscious state of mind,
and only a series of herbs and drugs
can prevent you from growing long
hair and eating grass. Point made.
As for the Haiku, we give you this
little gem:
Play Guitar Hero One
Your life comes undone, wasted
Crikey, everything smells.
Thus, you need to stop pretending
that you enjoy Guitar Hero. Nobody
likes it, and that includes the people
who say they like it.
