This is the writing of Mike Conway, Producer and Editor of SHOUT Magazine. It is a collection of published and unpublished works. Enjoy.

Pazar, Aralık 04, 2005

Through the Carpal Tunnel at SF GAME Convention

Spent a good part of the weekend getting trash talked on, dunked on, butt-stroked and all-around SERVED by adolescent boys at the Game and Music Experience convention (compliments of XLR8R: you guys ROCK!!!). GAME (as it was called) was the first ever of its kind from the gaming industry. This 3-day extravaganza served to show the world how deep this industry is, and boy is it DEEP!

In addition to endless games from all corners of technology: sports, military, fantasy, urban (choose your world, playa)--there was also some fine showcases of the Bay's finest musicians. Lyrics Born, Pidgeon John (he's from Hawthorn in LA it turns out), Colossus, JBoogie, Keak Da Sneak, and most of Hieroglyohics.

The event kicked off to asubduedd handful of industry geeks, hyped-up kids of every age, hyped-up parents, the Army and hacks like myself who kept telling ourselves we were "working." On Friday night, Quannum recording artist Pidgeon John did the call-and-response to me, my wife and like seven other people that were hip. PJ treated us as if we were a crowd of thousands. Good work boyeee!!!

After hours of careful consideration, these are my faves and my dogs from the event:

50 CENT, "BULLETPROOF": Taking the "shot 9 times" lore to a new level, this game is the child of Tony Yayo. Use your knowledge of the rules and regulations of the motherfucking game to propel Fiddy through the dark underworld. Take out suckas with the help of Tony, Llyod Banks and some well-appointed chrome, or "bling." Worth playing to hear the voiceovers alone, the best part of this game was when I ran out of money, guns and, coincidentally, cred. I was forced to roam the streets unarmed, leading 50 through pawn brokers, ho's, and street hustlas who couldn't do no nothin fo' me. 50 was worthless without his flash, so play on playa!

007: FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE: DUDE! Go ballistic on the many Bond villains with classic sounding firearms and then bust some skulls open with an up-close-and-personal forward slash from an AK47. Take that Stalin!

CALL OF DUTY 2: Currently the hottest game out there, Call of Duty allows you to give Winston Churchill his finest hour through the sight apertures of the many WWII weapons. Nice innovations include the "Kill Cam" where you see those Nazi bastards actually buck back from the g's of a well-placed head shot. You are there and you are Gerry's problem now!

BEST CONTEXT AWARD: While the premises of some games like Black were lacking, Mark Ecko's Getting Up: Contents Under Pressure is a sick insight into what an actuall all-out police state in America's cities would be like to fight. You're a graffiti artist named Trane (nice name too) running from militarized, homicidal police mutants and beating-down rival candy-ass writers for turf as you fight to protect the hip-hop family unit. Ecko was on hand, as was Flava Flave and Fear Factor's Joe Rogan, each hawking their swag and plenty of it.

HONORABLE MENTION: Our fighting men and women showed once again why they are America's sweethearts by manning a popular 1st person, non-violent shooter game w/ a simulated M6A1 replica service rifle or M9 Baretta. No recruiters in sight. With this kind of service from our military, think what they could do for a Four Seasons! Impeccable, disciplined service found nowhere else in the world. On second thought, let them keep serving All-Hayta in the iRaq. The pleasure is all theirs. The Army gets a big-ol' "KILL!!!" from this here marine.

YAYS VS NAYS: Big ups to Charlie Tate and Colossus for showing everyone exactly how cool the new instrumental Bay Area strain of Bohemian-Hop is. NAYS: Keak Da Sneak put on a tight show, albeit surprisingly typical. Something is wrong when your entourage is on stage standing around and not cruising the crowd for hotties for the afterparty. Fellas: study how when all 20 of Hieroglyphics take the stage, every swinging dick is working the crowd. It's all love, my brothers.

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