Just for the record: My homestead is such a major metropolis that fighter jets perform high-risk excercises just above grond level here. True story! I'm told this is because we're not actually on any of the respectable maps, only the rebellious, dangerously unstable ones. I spoke with a government representative about this, and he replied, with a confused look, "what? You mean there's people up there? Like in that movie, The Hills Have Eyes?". At this point, I did what any reasonable person would do: I sighed, rolled my eyes, and went home to duck and cover whenever those damn planes show up.
Anyway, all this is probably the reason why I feel so at home in the Capital Wasteland. It's just like home, with added dismemberment. And better music. In fact, the music in Fallout 3 is nothing short of spectacular (although I should probably point out that the dude in that video is not, in fact, Bob Crosby). The best music ever included in a computer game? You betcha. Just think about it: How many games make you sing happily along with lines like "pretty flowers need the sun", while splattering giant mutants into bloody little bits with a portable nuclear weapon? It's pure magic. Besides, having been exposed to her heavenly vocals, I now want to dig up the corpse of Billie Holiday and marry it in Vegas.
That can't be normal.
Showing posts with label Bob Crosby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bob Crosby. Show all posts
November 16, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)