The Torment in the Land - Senator Frank Church

 THE TORMENT IN THE LAND 

Taken from the Congressional Record, pages 72-75 of February 21, 1968 Vol. 114, Part 3

Mr. CHURCH:  Mr. President, the war in Vietnam enters its fourth year since we commenced the bombing of the north, its fury intensified, and no end in sight. As though fascinated by the baited trap, we are poised to plunge still deeper into Asia, where vast populations wait to engulf us and legions of young Americans are being beckoned to their graves. 

Confounding our construction of the Vietnamese war as an aggression from the north, the Vietcong remains primarily an indigenous force of the south, honeycombed through every city and village, capable of striking from nowhere, moving with relative impunity among the people. Without a single area immune from enemy penetration, where he cannot obtain local cover, it should be obvious that we can find no magical answer to our dilemma in South Vietnam by striking out elsewhere. I listen, dismayed, to the reckless talk of "hot pursuit" into North Vietnam, Cambodia, or Laos, where, presumably, we shall deny the Communists their "sanctuary," when all of Asia behind them is their sanctuary.

The involvement of the United States in Vietnamese affairs, we should remember, began as just another foreign aid program. Our purpose was to help certain anti-Communist elements in South Vietnam strengthen themselves. But when we commenced to take over their fight in their country, converting their political struggle into an American war, I could no longer support the policy. As early as September 1964, I began to speak out against it.

In the intervening years, I have seen my worst fears confirmed. Step by step, we have been caught fast in a precarious Asian bog. Into its quicksands, we can readily stray farther and sink deeper, but out of it there is no quick or easy path of extrication.

Can unheeded warnings over many years now be used to unmake a war? Clearly, they cannot; the questions must be reframed. The victims of events, we must now ask if the premises of 1958, which have brought us to the realities of 1968, will be relevant in the world of 1978.

As America now ponders the price of its policy in Asia:

“The quest for any healing wisdom must begin with the facing of one truth; the reckoning has been inevitable, for the policy was forever fatally flawed. Such a truth is almost too bitter to bear. For many, it will be so much easier to explain away the Vietnam tragedy in terms of cruel misfortunes or chance misjudgments. But this kind of history has not been decreed by blunders–but by premises. It has not been ruled by anguishing circumstance but by avowed purpose. And its full warning is not to be read as a matter of what America failed to do but what America tried to do.”

~Emmet John Hughes

 It is with what we have tried to do, not only in Asia but in the world at large, that I would speak today. I am deeply concerned about our concept of the world around us and the proper role that we should play in it. It is my belief that the time has come to search our souls–to ask what, indeed, is the true condition of our country, and how that condition relates to the course we are embarked upon abroad.

There is a story making the rounds of an airline pilot who announced to his passengers that he had two pieces of news for them, one bad and the other good. The bad news, he said, "is that we are lost. The good news is that we are traveling at a recordbreaking rate of speed."

The United States, without doubt, is traveling at a recordbreaking rate of speed. Our gross national product now exceeds an annual rate of $800 billion; for an unprecedented 84 months we have enjoyed a steady, upward trend of growth. More Americans are living better than ever before.

Yet, something is seriously wrong. Many of our thoughtful citizens sense that we are somehow off course, that we may have even lost our way.

For the first time, in my memory, a sizable segment of our young people have actually repudiated the country. The "hippies" have simply withdrawn from our society, seeking psychedelic escape by drug-induced hallucinations. We can deplore them but we cannot dismiss them–for they are there.

The activists among the angry rebels vent their contempt in public displays of brazen insolence. They defiantly tear up their draft cards; they shout, as the President passes by, "Hey, hey, L. B. J., how many kids did you kill today." They have gone so far as to mutilate the flag.

I recognize, of course, that these extremists do not typify American youth as a whole. Still, we deceive ourselves if we fail to acknowledge that a multitude of bright and sensitive college students–young men and women who refuse to participate in the abusive conduct I have just described–nonetheless feel profoundly disturbed about their country.

They question our course abroad. They resent the spreading mantle of militarism at home. They have, I must say quite frankly, greater sympathy for Dr. Spock and the ministers now under indictment, than for the Government prosecuting them. And they are skeptical about the condition of freedom in our land.

These students, though numerous, are probably not yet in the majority. But they do not care. Nor do they believe they can convince a country which will not listen. So their method is not to persuade but to obstruct, not to debate but to demonstrate. A kind of organized coercion seems to be their evolving technique, picket lines, massive sit-ins, rude resistance to established authority.

These anguished young people, in my opinion, are mistaken in the way they have chosen to conduct themselves. Disrespect for authority is disapproved by most Americans. No argument can be won by bad manners. The more shrill the shouting, the less inclined the country will be to listen.

Still, we are left confronted with the indisputable fact that a substantial proportion of our college students are estranged; they portray a poignant, visceral sense of alienation toward the "establishment," by which they mean all authority that stands for, or somehow represents, the government.

And this is a serious symptom of the torment in the land.

Another symptom, even more alarming, is the relentless growth of crime and violence in the streets. Our cities have become time bombs. We ask ourselves, in muted voices, which will be the next to explode. What horror does the coming summer hold?

For reassurance, we repeat truisms to one another. We earnestly agree that this country cannot tolerate mob rule; that riots, arson, and looting are the tools of anarchy and revolution; that the maintenance of liberty depends, first of all, upon the maintenance of order; that in a free country, anyone has the right to try and change the law, but no one has the right to break the law.

On all this we concur. More money will be given the municipal police for better instruction in riot control. Federal funds will be made available to finance special training programs for the National Guard. When the time comes, we know that many arrests will be made, and even now we demand swift punishment for the guilty.

Yet, deep down we also know that, though the police and guardsmen may suppress the violence, they cannot prevent it from occurring. And so we wait for the hot summer.

And this is another symptom of the torment in the land.

What has gone wrong? What is the reason for the dissension on our college campuses? Why, with rising affluence, are we faced with a rising tide of violence in America?

Finding the answers to these questions is the most urgent item on our national agenda. President Johnson, in his recent state of the Union message, took note of “a certain restlessness” in the country, explaining that–

“When a great ship cuts through the sea, the waters are always stirred and troubled.”

But, with all deference to the President, our troubles are not stirring in the wake of the ship; our troubles are aboard. The ferment works amidst the crew, and the anxiety relates to the course charted for the ship itself.

Many aspects of that course may have contributed to the deterioration of public morality, to the spreading disregard for law and order, but none, I submit, has had a greater impact than this country's marathon dance with war.

We bear the imprint of war prolonged and unending. The draft has become a permanent fixture in our national life. Our youngsters grow up with war, listening to their fathers' stories of excitement and adventure on a hundred battlefronts. Where is the little boy whose favorite toys are not miniature replicas of our country's vaunted weaponry?

Violence begets violence; incessant warfare becomes, at last, the accepted companion of normalcy. Every night we watch on television the gory spectacle of the jungle war in Vietnam, the latest film, in color, flown to us directly from the battlefront. Year in, year out, the brutal drama penetrates every home, until burning villages, screaming children, and flowing blood become a routine part of the typical family scene.

Each morning our newspapers carry the latest body count of enemy dead, together with pictures of our own fighting men, bandaged and mangled. The brand of war pervades and brutalizes our culture. Funny strips give way to fury strips. Violence not only dominates the entertainment we are offered on the ubiquitous tube; it is exalted there. Our video spies kill with a ruthlessness indistinguishable from that of their adversaries. One cannot really separate, on any ethical basis, the good from the bad. Nor does it seem to matter. For it is the "action" itself which is glorified, and apparently all that matters is that our side wins by the end of the program.

So it has happened that the American people, long gathered about the arena, have been steeped in violence. The President expresses the hope that hardened veterans, returning from the fighting in Vietnam, will join the police forces in our cities to help keep order. But even as he issues his appeal, he knows that other veterans, equally seasoned in the black arts of guerrilla warfare, are returning each day to the slums and ghettos. As whole blocks were burning in Detroit last summer, one such veteran turned to his buddy and said: "It's here, man, that the real war is."

To deal with that "real war," the bipartisan foreign policy of the United States has left us ill equipped. Since the end of World War II, our attention has been largely diverted away from the problems at home and riveted instead on distant shores. So, too, have our resources. Today, we are much more a warfare, than a welfare state. Of the $157 billion voted by Congress in 1967, an astonishing 74.7 percent went for war or war-related programs, while only 12.2 percent went for health, education, and welfare. The breakdown of last year's budget follows:

The most perfunctory examination of this budget reveals the staggering cost of war, past and present, but even these percentages fail to describe the mammoth extent of our involvement abroad.

Since the end of the Second World War, we have wrapped our arms around the world as if it were our oyster. American fleets patrol not only our home waters, but the oceans of the earth, from the Mediterranean to the China Sea. Over 2 million of our military personnel, including their dependents, are stationed abroad. We maintain no less than 132 major military bases overseas.

The cost of this unprecedented military array defies comprehension, approaching a trillion dollars since the end of World War II. Our nuclear arsenal has grown to such awesome proportions that if it were ever detonated in anger, its destructive power would be the equivalent of a thousand pounds of TNT against the head of every living inhabitant on earth.

However, even this is not the whole story. From the beginning of World War II onward, virtually every country in the world has received some form of loan or subsidy from the United States. In the postwar period alone, we have distributed more than $90 billion in economic aid to no less than 124 foreign governments, plus $38 billion in weapons, ammunition, and military equipment. OUr arsenal diplomacy encompasses the globe. We are the world's largest munitions supplier, having disbursed over six times as much armament as our nearest rival, the Soviet Union.

But even this lavish gift of arms is not intended as a substitute for the use of our own. The United States has formally pledged itself, in advance, to the defense of 42 foreign countries, a commitment without example in history.

All of this we have solemnly done in the name of living up to our responsibilities as a great power. State Department strategists. patiently explain that no other Western nation retains the capability of filling the vacuum created by the sudden collapse of the European empires. The good order they once maintained throughout the colonial world, we are told, it is now up to the United States to furnish–by subsidy wherever possible, through direct military intervention where lesser measures fail. Thus do we inherit the burden of the broken empires, assured that we shall be welcome since our motives are pure.

As a blueprint for American foreign policy, this doctrine of universal intervention is nothing less than a prescription for disaster. It rests, in the first instance, on a presumptuous misconstruction of modem history. 

Let China sleep–

Napoleon warned–

“for when she awakes the world will tremble.”

Nineteenth century colonialism awakened Africa and Asia from ancient slumbers, sewed indignation thick and deep, and reaped a bitter harvest of virulent nationalism. The resulting ferment can never be stilled by new intervention from without, least of all by another rich and powerful Western nation. The notion that we can restore stability to that half of the world which has just thrown off colonial rule, or, worse still, that it has fallen to us to act as a rearguard for the shrinking empires of a bygone day, is not even worthy of being called a policy. It is a grandiose dream of men who suffer from the dangerous delusion of American omnipotence. 

Today that dream lies shattered before our present agony in Vietnam. Whatever the eventual terms of settlement there, we have learned the chastening lesson others learned before us, that there are limits to what outsiders can accomplish by force of arms. The presence of a huge American expeditionary force in this small Asian country has reduced to puppetry, in the eyes of its own people, the very government we sought to bolster. Predictably, the banner of nationalism has passed to the Vietcong.

Moreover, as the Pueblo seizure demonstrates, we lack the manpower to extend to the rest of Asia the policy we pursue in Vietnam. For if Americans must fight Asians on a spreading Asian front, we shall soon run out of both men and money.

A general reassessment of American foreign policy is urgently needed. If we could only overcome our obsessive preoccupation with other people's ideologies, we could start asking some practical questions. What, for instance, have we bought with armaments unlimited and foreign aid dished out on a global platter?

We have not bought security.

After 20 years of the nuclear arms race, the Russian and American people are not the most secure, but the most imperiled people in the world. If the funeral pyre each government has set for the other is ever ignited, both peoples will be laid out upon it. A hundred million will die, it is estimated, in the initial blast, while untold millions more–wretched victims of the insidious fallout–will vomit their lives away in the hideous aftermath.

"The survivors would envy the dead," said Nikita Khrushchev.

"The last insanity," said Dwight D. Eisenhower.

Whatever could be salvaged, the mainstream of civilization would shift, for centuries to come, to the nonnuclear lands beyond the outer limits of the holocaust.

No, we have not bought security.

If not security, have we bought peace? Again, the answer is "No." Our policy of global intervention has meant war, not peace. During the past 25 years, the United States has engaged in more warfare than any other major power.

Then, at least, have we not bought favor? Once more the honest answer is "No." OUr insistent involvement in the internal affairs of so many foreign countries meets with rising resentment and suspicion. As a delegate to the 21st General Assembly of the United Nations, I was a reluctant witness to the growing cynicism.

If I draw a bleak picture of the American predicament abroad, it is to underscore my conviction that the time is ripe for what John Foster Dulles once called an agonizing reappraisal of our foreign policy. I say this after 9 years of service on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, a lengthy and intensive course. I say it after extended travel into many parts of the world, where I have met and questioned hundreds of prominent foreigners, journalists, businessmen, educators, and political leaders, from Harold Wilson to Nikita Khrushchev, from Chiang Kai-shek to Charles de Gaulle. Finally, I say it as one who firmly believes that the United States must continue to play a very prominent role in world affairs.

I do not propose swinging the pendulum back to ostrich-like isolationism. One extreme need not call for the other. rational middle ground, where the limits of our intervention are drawn to correspond with the limits of our resources, and where we reserve direct military measures for those occasions that actually pose a clear and present threat to the security of the American people.

If we were to do this, I think our perspective would return again. No great calamity would occur. Instead, we would begin to see the folly of intercession without restraint. We would lift a dread burden from our shoulders and stand taller before the world.

Indeed, we would soon discover that, even as the United States cannot cap or control the endemic eruptions in the emerging world, neither can any other nation. Five thousand years of human history bear witness: it is a stubborn world, much too large and tough to be subjugated by any one country, or any one ideology or political or economic system.

What we once conceived to be monolithic communism is already cracking up under the hammer blows of national rivalry. The systems differ, one from another, Russia and China engage in bitter controversy, while the "satellite" countries assert a growing measure of independence. Slowly we have come to acknowledge, then to applaud, the disintegration of Communist solidarity in Eastern Europe. Yet we refuse to either recognize or respond to the same phenomenon in Asia.

Fear blinds us; fear of communism which transcends faith in freedom; fear of a future that we cannot shape with our own hands; fear of sudden devastation hurling down from the skies. The nuclear monster we ourselves unleashed returns, like Frankenstein's, to haunt our lives. Psychologists testify that a frightened man strikes out in all directions, a characteristic conspicuous in our foreign policy of recent years.

In the face of all this, I wish I could express some confidence that, by an act of our own volition, we might soon commence to alter this country's foreign policy from one of general, to one of selective, involvement. But I have no such confidence. Like other nations before us that drank deeply from the cup of foreign adventure, we are too enamored with the nobility of our mission to disenthrall ourselves. Besides, powerful vested interests now encrust and sanctify the policy. Were we to wait for the hierarchy of either political party to advocate a change of course, I fear we would wait indefinitely.

But events are transpiring that may force a change of course upon us. If a widening war in Asia is averted, 1968 may well prove a year of reckoning for the United States. Our lengthy binge of extravagant spending abroad is catching up with us, for the laws of economics are immune to national ambition. Half the gold has been drained from our Treasury. Less than $2 billion in unfettered bullion remains to meet some $30 billion in foreign obligations, all of which are redeemable in gold.

The emergency measures proposed by President Johnson are palliatives, at most. He asks for the removal of the gold cover, which contributes nothing to the correction of our adverse balance of payments, but merely throws open to foreign creditors those remaining vaults to which their access is now denied. The gold drain, constant and unrelenting, is much too large to be checked by a dubious tourist tax or limited restrictions on the investment of private capital abroad. Retrenchment of Government spending abroad is inescapable, if the calamity of the dollar’s devaluation is to be avoided. But the solution will not be found in further manipulation of our foreign aid program, salutary as that may be; the solution lies where the gold toll is heaviest, in the redeployment homeward from Europe of large numbers of American troops.

Mounting pressure on the dollar, deaf to the trumpet call, will thus force a pullback. The question is not whether, but when. Congress could face up to a reckoning this year, if it had the fortitude to retain the gold cover, the removal of which merely buys a little extra time.

The stern, unavoidable requirement, made all the more urgent by the necessary  meeting the heavy gold drain costs in Vietnam, is to drastically cut back our foreign spending elsewhere. Would it not be wiser to do so now, while we still retain the last half of our gold as insurance for the dollar, than to wait until no gold remains? Why should Senators, long since convinced that the United States is overextended and overcommitted abroad, who have seen their repeated warnings repeatedly ignored, vote now to relieve the one pressure within our control that could compel a retrenchment?

I, for one, will not do it. I refuse to vote for the removal of the gold cover. I cannot support a measure designed to give globalism, our current foreign policy, and extended lease on life. All the Congress has left, with which to influence our course abroad, is the power of the purse. If we shrink from using it, we abdicate our role, and obtain nothing in return but temporary postponement of the inevitable day when the ledger must be balanced on our international payments.

So I shall vote to keep the pressure on, knowing full well that this is the only feasible means by which Congress can force a change in American foreign policy. The advice that Congress offers will continue to go unheeded, as long as Congress keeps giving its consent.

For the same reason, and other considerations as well, I have decided to vote against the proposed tourist tax. Apart from its impact on our adverse balance of payments, this tax strikes me as being grossly unfair. It will be borne by students, teachers, and other citizens of modest means, who have skimped and saved for a trip abroad, while our cosmopolites, the rich and well positioned with foreign bank accounts, will easily escape its reach. Moreover, the tax represents still another harassment of our citizenry by a Government increasingly immersed in a foolhardy endeavor to bestow liberty abroad instead of insuring its blessings here at home.

Nothing in the Constitution suggests that the Federal Government was established for the purpose of restructuring the world.

Again, however, I confess to no optimism that the Congress will hold fast. Our habit is to yield and I expect that the gold cover will be removed. The day of reckoning for the dollar will be deferred for a few more years, while the rest of our gold is transferred into foreign hands.

But what of the human pressures, the pressures which cannot be postponed. The pressures surging up from the slums, the pressures that cannot be postponed? The hot summer looms ahead, taunting us with the paradox of squandering, on the opposite side of the world, huge sums to suppress an insurrection in Vietnam, when insurrection smoulders in every major city in America.

Must it come to guerrilla warfare on our own streets before we begin to put first things first? How long do we wait before the men who occupy the seats of power finally see, that though the responsibilities of the UNited States Government are far reaching, there are none so important as those owed the American People?

Out of such an awakening, a new age would dawn. We would begin to find spiritual satisfaction again, We would regain our composure. Turning our primary attention to the problems afflicting our own society, confident our strength is such that no other nation can ever overcome us, we might even rediscover the guidance bequeathed to us by our earliest statesmen, men who understood, from the first, that our capacity to influence other lands depends upon our moral leadership, not our military might; upon the force of our example, no the force of our arms.

Listen to the wise words of John Quincy Adams, spoken on July 4, 1821:

“Wherever the standard of freedom and independence has been or shall be unfurled, there will be America’s heart, her benedictions, and her prayers. But she goes not abroad in search of monsters to destroy. She is the well-wisher to the freedom and independence of all. She is the champion and vindicator only of her own. She will recommend the general cause by the countenance of her voice, and by the benignant sympathy of her example. She well knows that by once enlisting under other banners than her own, were they even the banners of foreign independence, she would involve herself beyond the power of extrication, in all wars of interest and intrigue, of individual avarice, envy, and ambition, which assume the colors and usurp the standards of freedom. The fundamental maxims of her policy would insensibly change from liberty to force… She might become the dictatress of the world. She would no longer be the ruler of her own spirit.”

These words were uttered in the days of our infancy. Now, in the days of our maturity and in the fullness of our power, we see the dire prophecy of John Quincy Adams fulfilled.

Planetside 2

Are you tired of paying upwards of sixty dollars for a new triple A game? I was too, at least until I discovered PLANETSIDE 2! Planetside 2 is a game developed by SOE or Sony Online Entertainment. It is a free to play game, so you can download it off of Steam for free, and you can play the game forever without having to drop a penny.

Entering the game you get to pick one of three factions, the Vanu Sovereignty, the Terran Republic, and the New Conglomerate. The Vanu Sovereignty are a technological cult that rely on laser weaponry, doing less damage but making up for it in accuracy and fire rate. The Terran Republic are an authoritarian government that want absolute control of the other factions. They favor very hard hitting and slow firing weapons to bring down their enemies. Finally we have the New Conglomerate, a rebel faction trying to break away from the controlling government. They use traditional weapons that fire bullets, serving as a comfortable medium between the fast low damage of the Vanu, and the heavy damage and slow fire rate of the Terran.

After choosing your faction, you are put through a tutorial that shows you the bare bones basics of the game, how to walk, run, crouch, and shoot. Now that the player is a small toddler, no longer an infant, you are dropped from the sky in a rocket pod into the area of the map that currently has the most intense battle raging. Alone.

This brings us to the combat of Planetside 2. If the little toddler player tries to play by themselves they will die, thats the short and long of it. This game must be played as part of a group, so as soon as you can find an outfit to join and play with. Communication is essential to this game, as there will be up to 2000 people on a map at one time; buy a headset.

Once the toddler has there outfit then they can begin the path to becoming a medium sized child. In playing with your outfit you will try to capture all the territories in a continent, and hold them as long as possible. Beyond that there is no greater objective, the player can also buy new weapons, upgrade their character, and buy sexy new armor.

Planetside 2 is a free game which generates its revenue by means of the dreaded micro transaction. There are two types of in game currency, the first being Station Cash or SC and the second being Certification points or Certs. Cert points are earned at a disgustingly slow rate by killing enemy infantry and vehicles, and capturing territories. My average is about 25 Certs in an hour, seemingly large at first but in context very small. Buying a gun with Certs costs anywhere from 100 to 1000, so for me that could be anywhere from four to forty hours of time for just one gun, which is just outrageous. The real cash cow for Planetside 2 is SC, a gun the would cost 1000 Certs would cost 700 SC, so thats forty hours of time or seven dollars for a gun; Stupidly expensive every way you look at it.

The last big mechanic is the leveling system, a system which does literally nothing except show other players how much time you have wasted on the game. After one day of playtime I have reached level 16, so I can happily say I am now and adolescent.

Thats how Planetside 2 works more or less, over all it is a "good" game, and in the moments when it really comes together with planes soaring overhead and tanks rumbling along beside you it really is an incredible game, totally unique in what its trying to do. So if you ever do become a fully fledged adult, having wasted hundreds and hundreds of hours I have but one thing to say: Congrats.

Star Wars the Force Unleashed 2

It has been almost a month since my PC came to life, resting on top of my kitchen table, and almost three weeks since I discovered that I was running Windows 7 32 bit, and only utilizing about one quarter of my computers gaming power. A copy of Windows 7 64 bit is over 100 dollars, and I, after spending far too much money on my creation,  was unwilling to shell out the money for a copy. So right now I am waiting for a free copy to materialize, as I'm sure it will at some point, but until that happens I am taking a break from my gaming computer.

Without the PC, I decided to go for my Xbox. Once I'd found it, dusted it off, and plugged it into the TV, I was alerted that my save files had been corrupted and that all my games had been deleted. Already I was recalling the reason I built a computer, but this isn't a review of the Xbox. Searching through the Microsoft store I stumbled upon an old treasure: Star Wars The Force Unleashed 2.

The protagonist of SWFU 2 (as I will call it to save time) is a young man named Starkiller, acted by Sam Witwer. Dropping into the games campaign, a jumbled series of flashbacks were hurled at me, in a vague attempt to remind me of what happened in the previous game. The game doesn't fall short in the story aspect by any means, it does an excellent job of weaving its story into the Star Wars universe. The game starts with the player fighting a seemingly unlimited amount of rebel soldiers, slicing through them with dual lightsabers, frying them with lightning, hurling them against the walls with the force, and some combination of the three. After the player dismembers a sufficient number of goons it is revealed that they are all robots, and that the infamous Darth Vader is holding you captive. For reasons beyond my understanding, Starkiller decides to violently and thoroughly electrocute a startled Darth Vader. While Vader's muscles are still locked in place Starkiller blows a large hole in a wall, then jumps out into the rainy night. After this cutscene the player is given back control of the game, only to find themselves falling at high speed from a tower that seems to be miles tall. On the descent the player must destroy and dodge obstacles such as antennae, lightning, planes, and platforms covered in stormtroopers.

After the descent is completed Starkiller (cutscene) crashes into some kind of sea view cafe, killing many hungry stormtroopers. The player (no cutscene) runs through the whole bad guy complex dispatching everything in his way from troopers to passive aggressive computer terminals.

Nearing the end of the level is the first good example of what the main character Starkiller is capable of. In his effort to escape he spies a ship parked on a landing pad, however separating the would be transportation from the player is 100 feet of nothing. To bridge the gap the player is directed to some kind of TV tower, and as everyone knows TV towers are really just bridges in disguise. Just then some helpful Tie Fighters come along, and the player is directed to grab them as they fly by and smash them into the tower. Once, twice, thrice! The tower swoons then crashes onto the adjacent platform, killing everyone on it. After the player climbs over a new game mechanic is introduced, rage mode! As the player destroys all the resistance in their path they fill up a meter with every living thing that falls to their hand. Once the meter is full the player can go into super-saiyan mode where he glows blue, and all his power's our multiplied ten fold! A fight ensues where the player is forced to go into this rage mode and eviscerate the unfortunate stormtroopers sent to stop him. Once all resistance is quelled he hijacks the ship then takes off, leaving the empire to wonder who is going to pay for all the damages.

Overall I would recommend this game, as it provides an engaging experience. Be warned though that the game is short, only four full levels! luckily each of these levels is a solid hour long, and the game has strong replay value.

look out for a podcast collaboration with Jake at Dudley's Daily on the upcoming game Titanfall. Thanks for reading!
4/5
Good

Nuclear Throne

 This past weekend my grandmama had the good fortune to turn 90 years of age. In accordance to tradition all of her, and my, extended family traveled from around the world to celebrate her milestone. The weekend was filled with parties, cake,  poetry, and other tastey foods; in addition to that I saw family who I hadn't talked to in years. One of these individuals was a particular cousin from Greece, we'll just call him Gary. My cousin Gary is 30, so our age difference is significant, however large our age gap is one thing will always span the chasm: our love for video games.

Recently Gary had discovered a early access indie game called Nuclear Throne. Priced at $13 USD buying the game now not only allows the consumer to play it before it's official release, but it also secures a copy of the game after release even if the price goes up. The game's art style is a charming pixel style, while it's not totally original the game works the retro style and music to its advantage, creating a euphoric gaming experience. Upon starting the game the player is given the choice of 10 different characters, each with their own special ability and amount of health points.

The current boss in Nuclear Throne

Nuclear Throne is reminiscent of the Binding of Isaac, a game that employs a perma-death mechanic, if your character dies you start over no second chances. Your character starts out as a weak little guy still wet behind the ears, and if he is lucky enough to live long enough to level up, he can grab himself some upgrades. Starting the game on some characters one hit will kill the player, these kind of compromises could mean that you have very low health but very high damage output.

Overall I would absolutely recommend this game to anyone with a PC and 13 bucks to spend, as Nuclear Throne offers a refreshing and unusual experience to our modern triple A shooters.

Thanks for reading, and I'm hoping posts will be more frequent from now on, as things are starting to smooth out.

My first impressions on BF4

Upon clicking the play button in the Origin client, Battlefield 4 opens through your preferred internet browser. This was slightly off-putting, as it meant that if I the player didn't have internet connection, I wouldn't be able to enjoy the game. When the website loads you have full access and management over your in-game soldier. This website is called battle-log, to me it seems like just a marketing gimmick, as it only really serves to clutter up the experience of entering a BF4 multiplayer game.

As anyone who has any prior experience with the Battlefield franchise will know, the games are not known for their singleplayer campaigns, but for the multiplayer aspect. This newest installment doesn't fall short in that department thankfully. Once I've gone through the website to join a multiplayer server, I find
myself on a tropical archipelago. The scene is not one out of a travel brochure however, the palm trees swing back and forth uncontrollably in the shrieking wind, as rain pelts down like missiles, and the skies grows ever darker. The Chinese and United States armies are fighting for control of the islands, for whatever reason I don't know and nor do I really care.

 I drop into the combat as a recon, equipped with a rifle, a pistol, a range finder, and a small amount of C4 plastic explosive. The map was small, smaller than what was normal, and the action was rampant everywhere. I sighted around the map through my scope, and spotting my first man, I fired a round at him. The shot was dead on and should have killed him, and awarded me with experience points, suffice to say this didn't happen, and I watched the bullet pierce hit him square in the face with no affect. So here lies the unfortunate fact of multiplayer game in an early stage. If someone can cheat they most likely will.

I watched through a burst gas tank as an enemy U.S. soldier crept up behind a friendly Chinese trooper. The attacker pulled his knife and went for a knife kill, just in time though the Chinese soldier turned around so the knife caught him in his flack vest. The circled each other, both trying to get behind the other. The Chinese soldier lunged towards the enemy, but not fast enough. As the U.S. soldier was about to plunge his knife into the friendly, I took a wild shot through the wreckage. The lucky shot sped through the air and caught him below his right shoulder blade, piercing his right long. He fell to the ground unable to breathe, and the Chinese soldier moved on from him.

My final impression is that BF4 is a well optimized and good looking game. The moment I just described was extremely cinematic one, and I didn't have to exaggerate it to make it sound so exciting. The only problems that the game has in its current stage our the bugs, players becoming bullet shedding titans really takes away from the game. These things can be expected in an young game, so with time BF4 will only get better. Overall I would recommend this game to a friend, and I myself am very pleased with what DICE have done with this newest franchise installment.

Its a bird! Its a plane! No! Its a new PC!

When the PS4 and the Xbox One were announced this past summer, I realized that these "next gen" consoles as they are called, will now more than ever slowly bleed me of every penny I possess. Sony and Microsoft had now overstepped, games were rumored to cost eighty dollars a pop, internet memberships would be sixty dollars a year, and if you wanted to bring a game over to a friends house they would have to pay a steep activation fee.

I remember thinking"Whatever happened to putting the customer first!"when I first heard these affronting announcements.

In the words of my good friend Jake W, "Console companies are trying to piss everyone off, and PC gamers are just getting everyone stoked!"and whilst he was joking, he really hit the nail on the head.

Jake had inspired me to change, and to set out on a quest that would change me for the better; I was going to build a computer. After some research into the subject I realized that this was easier said than done, and it would be a good deal more money than I currently possessed. Luckily for me my work season was not far off, so for the next months I worked on a dam in west springfield and managed to raise all the funds I would need.

I had the funding now but the know how to actually build the machine was lacking, and before you can drive, you have to learn how. During the whole process I was endowed with a certain amount of luck, much more than usual, and I realized that my mentor was closer to home than I had thought. My uncle Dennis built and serviced computers regularly, and he would be just the person to talk to. 

After talking to dennis and searching through the seemingly unlimited archives of Youtube, I knew where my quest would bring me next; Micro Center! I was driving back from a Red Sox game with me' da one night, and our journey took us directly by the superstore. Never before had I seen such a trove of PC treasure, knowledge, and high tech junk to blow money on. Venturing cautiously into the store I was approached by a friendly salesman, a one Mr. Emilio Dunn. When I confessed to Emilio what a computer building nooby I was he responded gracefully, smiling and saying that I had nothing to worry about, he would walk me through it all. What ensued was a journey through cyber space and time on an old stock computer, and when we were finished I had a quote for all the parts I would need. I decided I needed more time to weigh my options. 

The motherboard and video card

I meant to return to Micro Center later that week, however due to unprecedented complications, I didn't return for almost a month. However long it took I was determined to return, so eventually I was back with the cash and the knowledge to purchase the parts. I entered the store with my mother, and I had been planning to have them assemble it there so I could film the process. Unfortunately this proved unfeasible, and they were going to charge me an extra hundred for their assembly services. 

We left having purchased our parts, and drove home where I started in on the assembly immediately. In my haste to build the computer I had forgotten to line up a time with Dennis so he could help me build it, this was a problem. I knew the risk I was taking when I decided to assemble it solo, I could fry all the parts, it could explode, it could melt into a puddle of steel and plastic, the list goes on and on. My face was set and my demeanor firm, power would course through the veins of my creation on this day.

I grabbed an old laptop and started it up, it took painfully long but I eventually navigated to Youtube to look up a tutorial. Jackfrags was there for me I knew this, and his soothing cockney accent would guide me through the process.

The complete machine

Two hours in my neck was killing me, but I had made good progress, the mother board was assembled and the disc and hard drives were seated in the case. I took a break, I visited my grandmother in rehab, and I drank a glass of ice tea. I'll never forget that tea, it shone and sparkled the deep color of amber, and the taste brought me into faraway lands, lying on a tiger skin rug in India. 

No rest for the weary however and I was back to work quickly. By eight o'clock It was done, and as I plugged it into the wall socket for the first and prepared to press the power switch, I froze. This moment would shape me as a human, if I failed I would never take a risk in my life again and I would live an empty life void of both challenge and satisfaction. I pressed the button, and waited, waited, waited. Nothing. I looked everything over in panic but no signs of error on my part, unless... Ahh yes the power supply was switched off. With the switch on the back turned to ON, I tried again and depressed the little rectangular start button. This time the machine roared to life and hummed loudly. The satisfaction was ultimate, the ecstasy complete, I had done it. I had built a Computer.

A review of my favorite book, Metro 2033

Metro 2033 is written by Dmitry Glukhovsky, and the its first copyright is dated at 2005. The book is based as the name states in the year 2033 after a nuclear war has destroyed the earth, and the surface of earth isn't suitable for humans to live on. Our protagonist is a young man named Artyom who was born in 2013, and lived in the old world for a short time before the war. When the war started he was taken into the metro by the man who became his step-father, he grew up knowing no other family. When he reaches 20 he is forced to take action against the increasingly dangerous mutant attacks against his home, and go on a quest across the metro. As Artyom ventures through the metro he realizes that everyone who survives must cling to one thing in someway or another. Ideology.

The story is told in a third person narrative style, and the reader follows Artyom on his adventures. Our character Artyom has grown to the age of 20 in his home station of VDNKH until he is given a mission by a Ranger. The ranger says that if he doesn’t come back Artyom must travel across the metro to Polis station to warn the Ranger Corps. as to the danger that his home station faces, hoping to gain their help. The book is pointed towards the adult reader, and specifically that who enjoy a post apocalyptic setting. Metro 2033 is apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic fiction, and the book couldn’t embody the feelings of disparity and brutality that a state of disaster brings any better. The author keeps you interested with his excellent writing style, which employs meticulously drawn scenes, and unique and interesting vocabulary, at times though scenes are grizzly, so it is heavily pointed towards the adult reader.

“Even the apocalypse didn't stop of from killing one another over ideology, even now the Nazis and the Communists are fighting a war for control over the metro.” When things appear most desperate and strange the human mind needs some sense of structure and objective, and in Metro 2033 that structure is ideology. In the book there are three main political factions, the Rangers who want peace and safety for everyone in the metro, the Communists who want unity in the metro but also a very strict control over the people, and the Nazis who who want to eradicate all those individuals who have been corrupted by the radiation.

Whenever I finish a really good book series it leaves me with an empty feeling, a feeling that says “I will never love again”. Fortunately there will always be another good book but this feeling was so deep after I finished Metro 2033 I couldn't speak for a few minutes. It carries a humbling message, we should be grateful for what we have, and seeing the people and what they go through everyday in this world that Mr. Glukhovsky, it truly shows one that. his style of writing and how he shapes Artyom as a character leads the reader to become very attached to him as a character, and because of this the book is filled with tense moments. Mr. Glukhovsky has a very unique perspective in his story, and the closest author to him would be Brent Weeks. If this book taught me one thing it would be that people do have strokes of totally uncharacteristic genius, and this book certainly embodies one of the moments for Mr. Glukhovsky. Unfortunately the sequel to Metro 2033 is a letdown to say the least, and while it still has the same detailed style, it doesn't have Artyom in it, and that in it of itself will be a deal breaker for many, as it was for me.

Metro 2033 is hands down my favorite book, and if you love a good and grimy post-apocalyptic adventure then you're going to live this title. I recommend this book so highly that you should take my copy right now, and if you like it, show it to your friends!

Rating: *****
5/5 Bueno!