Star Wars is not art – OFFICIAL

Who says the law is an arse?  Not us, at least, after the Men in Black at the grand old Court of Appeal ruled today that the bloke who was selling replica Stormtrooper helmets wasn’t treading on George Lucas’ little propertied toes.

Apparently, Andrew Ainsworth – the original manufacturer of those penile skid-lids – was paid a whopping £35 per unit back in the day.  These days, to make a bit of lunch-money on the side, he sells replicas using the original moulds, which are prized items among the kind of idiots who worship Star Wars, and who like dressing up as space-Nazis.

Poor little George Lucas who is, as we all know, practically broke, decided that this was a violent affront to his bank balance, and decided to – guess what – sue Ainsworth, and proceeded to win a $20 million judgement in the US.

Because Lucas suffered $20 million in lost revenue.  Oh, no wait, that’ll be punitive damages – that phenomenon whereby the already rich get to split open the arse of the little guy using their big, shiny-suited lawyer’s dick.

But now – more the miracle, so maybe it’s fucking Christmas – those enfeebled wig-botherers

SquirtBit’s Shitlist 2010

A non-conformist list of 9 titles that every hardcore gamer should begin contemplating suicide over.

Mass Effect 2

Where most enjoyed the first instalment, I sat so awkwardly on the fence throughout the entire thing, that I’ve got a rectum littered with fucking splinters. This sequel looks set to talcum powder any issues I had with the first game, if not just for the personal benefit of me being able to get back on the fence. Possibility of a prolapsed haemorrhoid: likely.

Confessions of an industry grunt: tribes part un

The video-games industry. Biggest money-spinner in entertainment and meeja.

What our offices look like. In our dreams

Ergo a visionary, creative group of individuals, all dedicated to ensuring that you, the sweaty-palmed punter, are given your fortnightly dose of high-octane, riveting, HD FUN FUN FUN FUN FUN. (Unless you like JRPGs, in which case please replace every instance of “FUN” with, alternately, “GRIND”  and “TEENAGE BOY WITH SILLY HAIR IN IDIOTIC CLOTHING”).

The reality is, naturally, somewhat different.

Borderlands Review: Borderline Entertainment

Pre-Christmas depression aside, I’ve been feeling a little down as of late – mostly due to the fact I’ve been on a compulsory level-grind in the testosterthon that is Borderlands. When I first heard of the game, it sounded like virtual polyfiller for the cortical dent I had been left with after completing Fallout 3; an FPS with role-playing elements, set in an American wasteland with deep character interaction and an excessive amount of looting (lawsuit?). What it actually turned out to be is something far, far worse…

Go figure…

Oh, NPD, how we hadn’t missed you, and your regular outfall of games trade numbers.  So instead, while industry digit-bores stroked their chins over their end-of-quarterlies, we compiled a bunch of our own, more meaningful stats, starting with:

1 (one): the number of soi-disant “reality porn stars” hired by Kotaku as “celebrity” columnists, in a completely not-sleazy and entirely successful attempt to boink their hit-count through the roof.

88,000: the number of Kotaku readers who think they’d have a chance with the above.

0 (zero, in hell): the actual chance of the above.

Kotaku’s new hiring policy, apparently.

8 million.  The number of mostly Anglo-American fucktards who’d rather pay Microsoft for an online service that Sony provides for free, and with no discernible difference in quality.

37: the number of reasons, in dollars, to laugh at Sony for failing to

Move along

Nothing to see here.

Not yet, anyway.