Being Claude Speed

Dear reality escapists,

I don't blame you. Reality sucks. Sometimes I like to imagine that what I see around me is simply a figment of my own messed up brain. After all, if all the sensory information were simply fed into my brain, like in the Matrix, what does it really matter if the outside world really exists in and of itself? I like to think this because at times, I don't want to face the facts: this world can be really ugly (references: wars, famine & gluttony, Tiger Woods, and Lindsay Lohan).

I had bought a PS2 about a year ago along with the Grand Theft Auto Trilogy, but never got around to playing it to progress through the story line. School, depression, and guilt (of not doing anything productive) got in the way. But now, the guilt is gone, and my only obligation is to my blog on which I have woefully underperformed. That's okay, I've backposted so that there's an entry for every day I've missed.

And this entry is one of several forward posts, ones that are scheduled to be released at 9AM each day. With my homework done, I can focus on being Claude Speed, the silent anti-hero of Grand Theft Auto III.

If you've never played the Grand Theft Auto series, you're missing out. You can blow up helicopters, peoples' heads & limbs, go on wild police chases where the chasee actually escapes (via police bribes or Pay N Sprays), and just cause general mayhem. It is oddly therapeutic to be so violent, even in a video game.

Though GTA III does mirror life's frustrations in some ways. The paramedic mission absolutely blows chunks. I still haven't beaten it, and I end up blasting the ambulance and all the patients I saved when I inevitably fail the mission.

You can finally air out your grievances with only minor repercussions (hand cramps).

I know, I know, I should really go buy a PS3 with GTA IV, but I'm holding out until I beat the GTA trilogy first.