Unleashing My Inner Nerd at E3

The Los Angeles Convention Center in all its teal glory.

Yesterday afternoon, I headed down to the Los Angeles Convention Center for the video game industry’s biggest trade event, the E3 electronics expo — where nerds and businessmen come together in unholy alliance to help each other. Many people may not realize that I love video games, but I do; so every time I get to go to one of these things, I generally nerd out in every possible way. Well, not EVERY possible way. I don’t actually stand in line for hours to play demos of Zelda or Halo. But I gawk like none other (until, of course, my weary feet transform my childlike wonder into bitter misanthropy). The point is that I went and took pictures; so here they are.

A giant banner for Jack Black’s new game, Brutal Legend. There was an even bigger banner for Assassins Creed II, exciting nearly everyone who attended. Unfortunately, Ubisoft didn’t let the public play it. Only special guests. WTF? You hang the world’s biggest banner and then act all exclusive? Whores.

As you can see, there’s plenty of news media and junk at the entrance.

Lil bunnies. (To promote another Rayman Raving Rabbids game)

My badge.

Ascending the escalators to the South Hall of exhibits. Mild giddiness begins to overwhelm me.

Before I enter the main room, I get sidetracked by this Rock Band 2 display. That guy playing the drums was out of control good. I wanted to go up there also, but when it was my time, the system came down with technical difficulties, causing me to leave disappointed.

I couldn’t help feeling like this marketing campaign, which had implored us to “Drink Up, Rock Out,” had failed me on both the drinking and rocking fronts.

As I step onto the exhibit floor, I’m overwhelmed by throngs of people and video monitors. Not sure if this picture adequately captures it or not.

Mania.

A gentleman representing EA Games whips the crowd into a frenzy with the promise of a free t-shirt. I admit, I get into the fray for about two seconds. IT’S A T-SHIRT. I’M NOT GONNA TURN THAT AWAY!

But then I look at the assembled crowd and realize that it’s far too early in the day for me to forgo my dignity for shwag.

I encounter the display for EA Sports Active where two ladies were exercising with their remotes. I was highly intrigued. And annoyed. These women would NOT let others play (and they were show models. They were supposed to let others play). Let me tell you something: there’s nothing more embarrassing than having to ask “Can I play?” It’s like an immediate time machine to being eight years old.

Luckily, a different show model saw my yearning and let me take over her workout. I told her to take pictures of me in what would surely be some embarrassing poses.

Here I am jogging. Unfortunately, the show model didn’t do vertical shots; so you can’t see the full degree of my body motion. I think she was Canadian.

More running. And let me tell you, this was like real running. Being that I was in jeans, this was not ideal.

Punching bag antics. Also surprisingly tiring. It was around now that I started to develop a film of sweat on my forehead. How embarrassing.

In case you thought I was lying, there’s a neat little pit stain. What was I saying before about dignity? To be fair, I had been exercising for about five minutes.

Leg lunges. Not ideal in denim. I really thought I’d split my jeans.

After the exercise, I wandered the halls in search of a cool breeze because at that point, I was literally sweating like crazy. I’m talking, back of the neck drippage. It was awful. Luckily, I’m not sure that gamers are necessarily known for their hygiene; so it wasn’t a major concern for me. Nevertheless, I headed over to Nintendo to see if there was anything worthwhile in their booth.

The short answer is no. I haven’t bought a Wii game in over a year because there simply hasn’t been anything worthwhile. The only game here that intrigued me was New Super Mario Bros. Wii, which is a throwback to the 2-D side scrollers of the ’80s.

I actually played the game for about ten minutes and thought it was fun; but I’m not sure I’d be willing to shell out (no pun intended — nerd moment) $50 for it.

I then headed over to Activision where some sort of band — don’t know if they were real or just some hairy programmers — was attempting to make Guitar Hero seem cooler than Rock Band. Then again, at least THEY got to play. (And I bet they got to Drink Up too). Damn them.

Nevertheless, this display attracts the masses.

Fake skateboards, etc.

Oooh. DJ Hero. This game looked really cool, and the music sounded great too. My only objection was that the guy demo-ing it started to act like he was a real DJ. Listen dude, you’re just pressing buttons.

The best thing I saw all day? The playable demo for God of War III. People, it was mind-blowing.

This photo does not adequately capture the awesomeness of this game. It does, however, capture the dorkiness of me.

See? That’s Kratos flying into the face of a giant Titan, who’s in the process of… never mind. I’ll just stop.

Errant soldiers with appropriately surly grimaces on their faces.

Random wrestler. This poor guy was sitting at a little table with absolutely NO SIGNAGE whatsoever. As a result, there were no lines, no hysteria, no nothing. I only noticed him because he had a stack of WWE pictures in front of him, waiting to be autographed. Even though I didn’t know who he was, I decided to take a picture with him because… well… why not? We chit-chatted about the WWE briefly (I used to work there, believe it or not), and then I left. Turns out his name is Kofi Kingston. So there you go.

Favorite game title of E3. I mean, who couldn’t love something with the subtitle, GAMES OF PASSION!

PASSION!

People lined up for a free game.

The feel good video game of the year!

I just don’t get the point of this. It’s the same as regular Rock Band, except all the characters are in lego form.

OOOH. The post-apocalyptic Terminator: Salvation display. If IndianJones were there, he would have jizzed himself.

Batmobile. Further jizzing from IndianJones.

More clamoring for t-shirts. I’m telling you, it was like a riot.

There was a cool corner devoted to indie games such as this one called PLUFF. Basically, you pet that furry gumdrop thing, and its computer counterpart reacts in kind. Sort of weird and nightmarish.

AT LAST! The flora and fauna video gaming experience I’ve always sought out!

A Jonas Brothers video game? Now we’re getting to the good stuff.

I always felt that seasonal Dickensian literature would translate well into a video game!

This was the moment when a light shone down from the heavens and a chorus of angels sang “ahhhhhhh.”

That’s right: a Food Network game! Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be any Food Network personalities attached, which immediately saddened me. Could you imagine: Ina Garten as a boss? A playable Giada De Laurentiis? Guy Fieri as a little monster you can kill? The possibilities are endless!

Basically, the thrust of the demo was that I had to cook dinner for my date, and I only had nineteen minutes to do so. You started off in a kitchen, and a message said “Ready… Set… COOK!” At which point my excitement turned into confusion. Okay. How do I cook? I just stood there in the virtual kitchen looking around. Thankfully, a nearby guy told me to click on the potato icon on the upper-lefthand corner of the screen. And so began my odyssey. Overall, things went smoothly with the chopping and the mashing, but I did manage to accidentally pour out a jar of virtual salt onto my virtual steak (which I later virtually burned on the virtual stovetop). Needless to say, I blame the wonky controls. P.S. if Food Network wants to send me a copy of the game, I’d be more than happy to review it. HINT HINT.

Steve Wiebe from The King of Kong attempts to break the world record for Donkey Kong live at the show. He failed.

I liked this game for its title. Although, if I were in charge, I would have renamed it Lil Ninjas.

After about four hours, I decided I’d seen enough. I returned to the outside world where the bright sunshine welcomed me back to the world of the living.

Goodbye, sweet puffballs. See you next year.