Violence in video games has been a political topic ever since pussies were allowed to vote. And anti-game activists have gotten their stupid, punchable mouths back on the news recently because of Cliffy B's Bulletstorm. It may terrify parents, but any gamer can spot that Bulletstorm is an awesome, gory seizure of dick-killing action. It actually penalizes you if your victims die with a face or penis-- that's paradigm shifting. Oh, and speaking of penises, the game has worse dick jokes than a pediatric urologist. When you bring it home, your five-year-old will ask if you bought any games that are more mature. But aside from Bulletstorm's dialog being plagiarized from a bar urinal, it celebrates all that is good about mayhem.
Arguing with anti-video-game lobbyists about the merits of violence has never seemed fair. My side is tougher, has better research, and our girlfriends don't go through our email to prove their suspicions that we're gay. So instead of starting a philosophical debate about raising our children to be normal vs. raising them to be stupid, cowardly wusses, I created a machine capable puncturing the fabric of spacetime which retrieved this magazine from a dimension where video game violence has been outlawed. Behold the terrors of a world where the meek rule: