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BioShock
Bioshock is an FPSRPGMMOOMGWTFBBQ released in 2007 for the Ecksbawks 360 and PC (and in 2008 to the PS3) to the commercial success of basement dwellers and critical success of game reviewers alike. The genre was later shortened to FPSRPG (First-Person Shooter Role-Playing Game) so that it could fit on the game box, and eventually shortened to just FPS when the game's developers realized that the game had practically no RPG elements. The game is noteworthy for being good enough to be worthy of note, for having a ZOMG DEEP storyline, and for being the only video game in anyone's memory that allowed the player to brutally rape and murder little girls. You can replicate the experience by playing any Fallout game (preferably Fallout 3) while reading Atlas Shrugged.
The Game (you just lost it)
Plot in under 5 seconds
Ayn Rand under the sea. You enter an underwater city called... surprise surprise "Rapture". You kill things, strangle/rape little girls, Big Daddies for the right to strangle/rape them, and inject some sort of blue glowing liquid into your veins. Its like that weekend back in 98...
Plot in tl;dr
You play as some guy whose name really isn't important, and whose goal is to rescue some loli and kill people with both guns and by taking narcotics to grant you magic powers. The game is set during 1960, when the protagonist's plane crashes into the World Trade Center Atlantic Ocean, where he discovers a hidden city at the bottom of the ocean called "Rapture". Of course, the city is in a state of despair worse than that of New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina (minus including the black people looting), and it's up to our pedophilic hero to solve the obligatory mystery surrounding the whole mess.
Your character starts out with nothing moar than a wrench with which to beat his foes upside the head, but soon acquires some guns and drugs to help him along. The protagonist then starts shooting up the drugs ("plasmids") like a heroin addict going through withdrawal and learns that, through the magic of science, he has gained special abilities, such as the ability to spawn an army of wasps from his forearm or to set shit on fire. The player then finds out that in order to recharge his powers, he has to continually take a high strength brand of heroin known as "EVE".
So, Jack (that's the protagonist's name, in case you really care) has to find a bunch of little girls, called "Little Sisters", that have a kind of genetic material called "ADAM". After finding the little brats, it is then up to you to decide if you want to harvest or save them. But before you can do that, you have to contend with their guardians, called "Big Daddies". The Big Daddies are basically just tough motherfuckers in metal diving suits that will attempt to rape you with either a giant gun or a giant drill.
There's also this guy named "Atlas" who helps you along for about the first half of the game. He gives you useful advice on how to advance and kill the game's enemies, called "Splicers" (pronounced "sploicehs"). He guides you on your quest to kill Andrew Ryan, the city's creator. Well, it turns out that Jack's actually Ryan's illegitimate son. And what's moar, Ryan has you sodomize him to death with a golf club by using the phrase "Would you kindly...", the same phrase that Atlas has been using to control you! And Atlas isn't even Atlas, he's some black person named Frank Fontaine! Oh yeah, spoiler alert.
So then Jack's rescued by some German MILF named Dr. Tennenbaum, who houses the Little Sisters and used to run a child prostitution service before the city went to shit. Anyway, in case you haven't yet figured it out, you have to go kill Fontaine and save the day. When you first meet Fontaine, he looks like a normal guy, but when you fight him at the end of the game, he looks like a cross between The Incredible Hulk and Chris Benoit. Pretty much the dude jacked himself full of ADAM and became jacked and black (A man with black skin on drugs!? NO WAI!) But don't worry, all you have to do is walk up and stick a syringe in his chest, and then shock him so that he can't move; wash, rinse, and repeat, and you'll beat this insultingly easy boss, who is then stabbed to death by little sisters with syringes.
THE ENDING: The ending that you get is determined by how you behaved in the game, as a pitiful attempt by the developers to make it seem like the game has moar depth and variety than it actually has. If you saved every Little Sister that you came across (you pussy), then you get the good ending, where you're some kind of Gary Sue character that waits out his days watching his new daughters grow and everything's all perfect and wonderful. But if you killed even one Little Sister (you sick fuck), then you're some kind superpowerful Hitleresque madman bent on world domination and you crash a submarine into New York or some shit. What's that, you'd like some sort of middle ground? Well, tough shit. This is all you get. It also totally set up for an EVEN DEEPER sequel.
Gameplay
Bioshock's gameplay can best be summed up as saying that it's sort of like that of System Shock 2, an older PC FPSRPG. Actually, a better description might be to say that if you took System Shock 2, submerged it in a bucket of water, Ridiculously dumbed down, and turned back time to the year 1949, that you would get Bioshock. In fact, Bioshock is often considered a "spiritual successor" to System Shock 2, much in the way that you might tell your English professor that your plagiarized paper is a "spiritual successor" to the original.
But enough about that, let's talk about the game itself. First off, and as stated previously, Bioshock is very easy. Easy like you could probably beat the game in a few hours with your eyes closed while playing another game on a portable system. For instance, there are Vita-chambers, which revive you when you die, placed at about every other turn, so you have no real fear of dying. Furthermoar, any damage that you've inflicted to your enemies will remain after you die, so you could run through the whole game with a wrench if you wanted to. Of course, if you did this, then you'd miss out on abusing your abilities to do awesome things such as setting a dead cat on fire with Incinerate and throwing it at your enemies with Telekinesis. To offset this, the developers released a new achievement, via Xbox Live, that gives you 100 gamer points for beating the game on hard without using a Vita-chamber. Of course, this just means that you'll have to abuse the game's save function a little bit moar.
Bioshock (moar like Biocock, amirite?) is touted as an FPSRPG, but has very little RPG elements. The only real customization is that you can occasionally upgrade your weapons and put gene tonics on yourself. There's no inventory screen, so any food that you find you must devour on the spot like a starving black person child. Additionally, you can h4x things in the game to make them work for you. Naturally, the word "Hack" made all of the basement dwelling gamers jizz themselves in delight, but it turns out the hacking is just playing a prettier version of the old Windows game, Pipe Dream. It's also incredibly easy, and you could probably hack anything in the game with your feet.
The game is very atmospheric, and occasionally tries to get scary. However, due to the aforementioned difficulty, the game fails miserably at doing this, since you can practically run around and beat down every enemy with your dong.
What's the matter? Too DEEP for you?
Bioshock is commonly praised for having a deep, philosophical story and for exploring the moral implications of the human condition. If you ever tell one of the deep thinkers who holds this mentality that it's just a video game, be prepared for a tl;dr dissertation on psychology and how you "just don't get how DEEP Bioshock is." Unfortunately, these people fail to see that it's a FICTIONAL VIDEOGAME and not a scientific study. At most, the game is just telling you that Ayn Rand was a fucking retard, which is blatantly obvious to anyone who isn't one of her kind.
—From the Bioshock article on TOW. | ||
Much of this mentality probably stems from the fact that Rapture was a society built from the ideals of science, art, and industry without any moral restrictions. It would appear that this lack of moral code, coupled with natural human behavior, led to the downfall of the Utopian society. It couldn't have been the fact that the citizens had the ability to electrocute each other with the snap of a finger. Nor could it have had anything to do with the fact that everyone in the city was batshit insane, or that there were vending machines on every street corner that sold guns and ammo. Nope.
In reality, the ZOMG DEEP AND PROFOUND nature of Bioshock is just a device to drive the plot along while you're not freezing people and blowing them up with grenade launchers. Nevertheless, you could always use the downfall of Rapture to troll atheists and libertarians about what would happen to society if their retarded views were applied, but then again, it's just a video game.
The Pseudomeme
No, says the man in Washington. It belongs to the poor.
No, says the man in the Vatican. It belongs to God.
No, says the man in Moscow. It belongs to everyone.
I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose...
Rapture!
A city where the artist would not fear the censors.
Where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality.
Where the great would not be constrained by the small.
With the sweat of your brow, Rapture can become your city, as well.
This speech, given by Andrew Ryan at the opening of the game, was posted on /b/ one day as a means to oppose the censorship imposed by Moot and his new posting rules. However, rather than simply sage the thread or call the OP a cocksucker, the denizens of /b/ cuntpasted the speech repeatedly, but changed it slightly to fit the various characters that they inserted into Andrew Ryan's place. And thus, a sort of mini-meme was born. There have been a few attempts at recreating the original thread, but all have been complete failures. Additionally, Bioshock threads are relatively common on /v/, where the /v/irgins can be found arguing over the moral implications of the game and fapping to pictures of Little Sisters.
Pedobear Version
I am Pedobear, and I am here to ask you a question: Is a bear not entitled to rape young girls?
No, says the man in Washington. It is against the law.
No, says the man in the Vatican. But you can have sex with young boys.
No, says the man in Moscow. In Soviet Russia, girl puts penis in YOU!
I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose...
Rapture.
A city where the bear would not fear the FBI.
Where the pedophile would not be bound by petty morality.
Where I could have sex with underage girls, free of the constraints of the law.
With the sweat of your brow, Rapture can become your city, as well.
Kramer Version
I am Cosmo Kramer, and I am here to ask you a question: Is a man not entitled to ridicule black persons?
No, says the man in Washington. That would be racist.
No, says the man in the Vatican. We are all equal in the eyes of God.
No, says the man in Moscow. In Soviet Russia, nigger lynches YOU!
I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose...
Rapture.
A city where the comedian would not fear the censors.
Where the KKK would not be bound by petty morality.
Where I could denounce niggers without worrying about my public image.
With the sweat of your brow, Rapture can become your city, as well.
Hitler Version
I am Adolf Hitler, and I am here to ask you a question: Is a man not entitled to exterminate the Jews?
No, says the man in Washington. They've done nothing wrong.
No, says the man in the Vatican. It is wrong in the eyes of God.
No, says the man in Moscow. That's our job.
I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose...
The Final Solution.
A future where the Jew would fear the censors.
Where the Nazi would not be bound by petty morality.
Where the Nazi would not be constrained by the Jew.
With the sweat of your brow, this can become your future, as well.
Milhouse Version
I am Milhouse Van Houten, and I am here to ask you a question: Is a boy not entitled, by the sweat of his own brow, to be a meme?
No, says the man in 4chan. Nobody likes you.
No, says the man in 7chan. Nobody likes you.
No, says the man in 420chan. I'm high right now, and nobody likes you.
I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose...
Rapture.
A city where the artist would not fear the censors.
Where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality.
Where I could finally get the respect I have so long deserved.
With the sweat of your brow, you can be a meme, as well.
Gotta Catch 'Em All Version
I am Ash Ketchum, and I am here to ask you a question: Is a boy not entitled to be the very best like no-one ever was?
No, says the man in Washington. Japanese animé is fucking gay.
No, says the man in the Vatican. Boys are for shagging in the confession box.
No, says the man in Moscow. In Soviet Russia, Pokémon capture YOU!
I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose... Pikachu!
A world where the mouse Pokémon would not fear the Meowth.
Where the Professor Oak would not be bound by animal cruelty.
Where the pokeball would not be constrained by being smaller than the Snorlax.
With the burning desire to catch 'em all, Pikachu can become your best freind, as well.
Spartan Version
I am King Leonidas, and I am here to ask you a question: Is a man not entitled to kick Persians down his own well?
No, says the man in Persia. No man, Persian or Greek, no man threatens a messenger!
No, says the man in Rome. Madman! You're a madman!
No, says the man in Athens. This is blasphemy! This is madness!
I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose...
SPARTAAAAAAAAAA.
A city where the Persian would fear the censors.
Where the Spartan would not be bound by petty morality.
Where the Spartan would not be constrained by the Persian.
With the sweat of your brow, SPARTAAAAAAAAAA can become your city, as well.
A Pretty Cool Guy Version
I am Halo, and I am here to ask you a question: Is a man not entitled to kill aleins?
No, says the man in Washington. They've done nothing wrong.
No, says the man in the Vatican. Let us welcome our new alien visitors.
No, says the man in Moscow. They come in peace.
I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose...
Rapture.
A city where the artist doesn't afraid of the censors.
Where the Spartan would not be bound by petty morality.
Where the humans would not be constrained by the aleins.
With the sweat of your brow, you can be a pretty cool guy, as well.
Soulja Boy Version
I am Soulja Boy, and I am here to ask YOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUU a question: Is a man not entitled to make shitty music?
No, says the man in Washington. Your music is terrible and uncreative.
No, says the man in the Vatican. YOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUU say the same fucking words over and over.
No, says the man in Moscow. It pains my ears to listen to that garbage.
I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose...
To get rich off of people with no musical taste.
A choice where the artist would not fear the censors.
Where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality.
Where I could become famous without having any talent.
With the sweat of your brow, YOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUU can create annoying, repetitive rap music, as well.
Moot Version
I am moot, and I am here to ask you a question: Is a man not entitled to enjoy his soup?
No, says the man in Washington. What the fuck are you doing? 4chan is down!
No, says the man in the Vatican. You can eat later.
No, says the man in Moscow. In Soviet Russia, soup eats YOU!
I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose...
Rapture.
A city where the admin would not fear the DDoS.
Where the /b/tard would not be bound by petty morality.
Where I could eat my soup in peace, free from the complaints of users.
With the sweat of your brow, Rapture can become your city, as well.
Rootbrian Version
I am Rootbrian, and I am here to ask you a question: Is a man not entitled to look ugly and talk shit about ED?
No, says the man in Washington. ED is the main government of the world.
No, says the man in the Vatican. ED is God's messenger of truth.
No, says the man in Moscow. In Soviet Russia ED... wait...no... HaHa!! It doesn't matter where you live!!!!
I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose... Rapture!
A city where ugly people would not fear the beautifuls.
Where ugly people are not bound by the crookedness of their teeth.
where retards are not constrained by their IQ.
With the sweat of your brow, Rapture can become your city, as well.
Australian Version
I am Josef Fritzl, and I am here to ask you a question: Is a man not entitled to imprison and rape his own daughter?
No, says the man in Washington. That's just fucking wrong.
No, says the man in the Vatican. I can see it happen to a little boy but not a girl.
No, says the man in Moscow. Daughter imprisons and rapes you.
I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose...
Amstetten
A city where a father would not fear ridicule from the public.
Where the sick fuck would not be bound by petty morality.
Where the father would not be constrained by unwanted births .
With the sweat of your brow, Amstetten can become your city, as well.
Faggot Version
I am Boomzlul and I've come to ask you a question: Is a Druid not allowed to enjoy the staff gotten from the sweat of his own brow?
No, says the GM. It belongs to the Priests.
No, says the ^&*!@#bag Warlock Class Leader. It belongs to me.
No, says the socialist nutters in the raid. It belongs to everyone!
I rejected those answers. Instead, I ninjalooted something different. I ninjalooted something impossible! I ninjalooted...
Rapture
A staff that would not need fear the nerfing.
A staff with a godly assortment of benificial stats.
A staff with unending potential to be used as the pivotal object in an already thoroughly beaten to death internet méme.
And with the sweat of your brow Rapture can become your staff as well..
Irate Gamer Version
I am Chris Bores and I am here to ask you a question: Is a man not entitled to plagiarize whoever he wants to?
No, says the man in Washington. That's illegal you know.
No, says the man in the Vatican. You'd go to Hell.
No, says the man in Moscow. In Soviet Russia, AVGN plagiarizes YOU!
I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose...
Y2B Productions
A company where the plagiarist would not fear the loss of his Youtube partnership.
Where the plagiarist would not be bound by the task of coming up with his own original ideas.
Where the plagiarist would not be constrained by those who expose him.
With the sweat of your brow, Y2B Productions can become your company, as well.
No Cussing Club Version
I am McKay Hatch,and I am here to ask you a question: Is a child entitled to edit the first amendment?
No, says the man in Washington. It violates the constitution.
No, says the man in the Vatican. Only God can dictate the law.
No, says the man at 4chan. GTFO Moralfag.
I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose...
South Pasedena.
Where the Artist would watch his mouth.
Where the kids create laws.
Where the great are constrained by the small
With the cum of your ass, South Pasadena can become your city, as well.
Chris-chan Version
I am Christian Weston Chandler, and I am here to ask you a question: Is a high functioning autistic not entitled to have a boyfriend free girl?
No, says the niggo in Washington. Autistics were meant to be kicked.
No, says the trolls in ED. You will never get china.
No, says the jerkops at the mall. You are banned from this mall
I rejected those answers. Instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose...
Cwcville
A city where the girls would not say no.
Where Sonichu] would not be bound by darn copy right laws.
Where I could have a sweetheart from the ground up, free from the trolls.
With the sweat of my chin, Cwcville can become your city, as well.
DRM
In order to stop people from stealing the game, the executives at 2K decided to put DRM in the PC version of BioShock, thus limiting the amount of times the game can be installed. The limit was set at two, but has apparently been upped to five. The game accomplishes this by installing a root kit called "SecuRom" on your system, which can potentially rape your security and fuck with your programs. Of course, this is not going to stop anyone from pirating the game. So, in reality, all this does is cockslap 2K's paying customers in the face by treating everyone like a criminal. Naturally, tremendous amounts of nerd rage have stemmed from 2K's decision, with flames flying all across the tubes. Unfortunately, 2K has shown no signs of changing their policy, so you'll just have to continue killing splicers with Ken Levine's penis in your mouth.
See Also
External Links
- The official Bioshock site
- Zero Punctuation review of Bioshock
- Andrew Ryan endorses Ron Paul.
Good Endingremoved due to Terms of Douche violation- Bad Ending
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BioShock is part of a series on Visit the Gaming Portal for complete coverage. |
