XPav
10-19-2003, 04:32 PM
I grabbed Max Payne from Compusa, holding the too shiny security case in my sweaty hands, eager to unlock the dark mysteries inside.
The Compusa checker had to be pried from his difficult task staring at the wall to allow me rational side to pay for the game, before my inner demons took over and made a break past the corpulent security guard at the exit.
He rang me up, took my money, and I was on my way home, no blood spilled, no neon bridges burned in my wake.
The game CD went into my DVD drive -- the CD-R drive reserved for Battlefield 1942, the game that I used to exorcise my inner demons upon anonymous strangers on the internet.
The progress bar came on the screen, mocking me with its promises of entertainment as it slowly crept across the screen, slower than a 10 year old zombie with its legs blown off.
The zombie reached its mark -- the install completed, and I felt my inner demons sing as the zombie reacherd out for its feast.
But it was not to be.
The launch of the game brough a clicking noise and flashing lights from the DVD drive. I had been denied my opportunity to silence the demons. An attempt to eject the DVD brought with it nothing -- the drive was dead, cruely murdeded by the creature known as Safedisc.
My blood burning through my body, I vowed to put an end to this. Opening my mind to the filth-laden pit of the internet, I had an idea. Whether planted by an angel, or a devil, I didn't care. I was beyond that.
I went to seek out a firmware upgrade for my DVD player. I entered the netherworld of pimple faced teens looking to get region-hacks for the DVD players so they could watch their tentacle porn in the dark and dank nightmares of their parents basement.
My drive said "Acer" on it -- but it was a Pioneer. I imagined a scene where DVD drives were stripped of their skin by poorly paid chinese gargoyles and dressed up with the castoff skins of corporate allies.
A few clicks later, I had a new brain for my DVD drive. 3rd party it said -- designed to break region encoding as well as reduce drive spin. It sounded good, but then again, most devil's bargains do.
A few more clicks, and an illegal bootdisk has been obtained. Microsoft, the great devil themselves, had denied me the ability to make bootdisks when I installed their latest masterpiece. Evil? Monopoly? I didn't care. I was beyond caring.
I booted to DOS -- back to the simpler days of the 90s, before everything became complicated. The firmware was updated. My Acer drive had a new soul -- the old one sent back to the fiery pit from whence it came.
I booted back to Windows, click with trepidation on the Max Payne 2 icon. Would this lead to my salvation?
It would. The game loaded. It ran. The vile demon Safedisc complained no longer.
I sold my soul to the devil to play my game. Even now, I feel the urge to download tentacle porn -- the screams of the original Acer DVD calling to me from the pit.
But I didn't care -- I was playing my game, listening to a noir action hero fighting his own inner demons. Mine were silent. I was beyond hope.
The Compusa checker had to be pried from his difficult task staring at the wall to allow me rational side to pay for the game, before my inner demons took over and made a break past the corpulent security guard at the exit.
He rang me up, took my money, and I was on my way home, no blood spilled, no neon bridges burned in my wake.
The game CD went into my DVD drive -- the CD-R drive reserved for Battlefield 1942, the game that I used to exorcise my inner demons upon anonymous strangers on the internet.
The progress bar came on the screen, mocking me with its promises of entertainment as it slowly crept across the screen, slower than a 10 year old zombie with its legs blown off.
The zombie reached its mark -- the install completed, and I felt my inner demons sing as the zombie reacherd out for its feast.
But it was not to be.
The launch of the game brough a clicking noise and flashing lights from the DVD drive. I had been denied my opportunity to silence the demons. An attempt to eject the DVD brought with it nothing -- the drive was dead, cruely murdeded by the creature known as Safedisc.
My blood burning through my body, I vowed to put an end to this. Opening my mind to the filth-laden pit of the internet, I had an idea. Whether planted by an angel, or a devil, I didn't care. I was beyond that.
I went to seek out a firmware upgrade for my DVD player. I entered the netherworld of pimple faced teens looking to get region-hacks for the DVD players so they could watch their tentacle porn in the dark and dank nightmares of their parents basement.
My drive said "Acer" on it -- but it was a Pioneer. I imagined a scene where DVD drives were stripped of their skin by poorly paid chinese gargoyles and dressed up with the castoff skins of corporate allies.
A few clicks later, I had a new brain for my DVD drive. 3rd party it said -- designed to break region encoding as well as reduce drive spin. It sounded good, but then again, most devil's bargains do.
A few more clicks, and an illegal bootdisk has been obtained. Microsoft, the great devil themselves, had denied me the ability to make bootdisks when I installed their latest masterpiece. Evil? Monopoly? I didn't care. I was beyond caring.
I booted to DOS -- back to the simpler days of the 90s, before everything became complicated. The firmware was updated. My Acer drive had a new soul -- the old one sent back to the fiery pit from whence it came.
I booted back to Windows, click with trepidation on the Max Payne 2 icon. Would this lead to my salvation?
It would. The game loaded. It ran. The vile demon Safedisc complained no longer.
I sold my soul to the devil to play my game. Even now, I feel the urge to download tentacle porn -- the screams of the original Acer DVD calling to me from the pit.
But I didn't care -- I was playing my game, listening to a noir action hero fighting his own inner demons. Mine were silent. I was beyond hope.