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If you have to explain a joke, it’s no longer funny. On the other hand, if someone keeps cracking the same joke and you have no idea what they hell they’re talking about, they’re an annoying dick and you have the right to punch them. (We’re pretty sure it says so in the Constitution.)
We like being self-referential buffoons, but we also don’t like being punched. You see our dilemma. Thankfully, we’ve discovered a unique solution: we’ll just show you our greatest recurring in-jokes in…
GamesRadar’s senior wildlife editor and sole equine staff member, B. Buttercup may be the most opinionated and articulate photograph of a horse in the world.
Assisted by Senior PC Editor Tyler Nagata, we turn to Buttercup whenever we need opinions on which horses are sexiest or why sharks are terrible from a diabetic, long-suffering animal under the twin pressures of maintaining an urban lifestyle as a horse and trying to earn a living as a games writer. And we pride ourselves on being the only games site that does so.
We say this a lot. Whenever possible, in fact. But only because it’s true: you should play Okami. Play it every day for the rest of your life. Play without ceasing. Do not stop to eat. Do not pause to sleep. You need only the flickering light of Amaterasu to keep you warm and safe.
Above: Pretty much just an average Tuesday for us
OK, OK. Fine. We admit it: this is just a hollow, obligatory demand that we roll out whenever we can, for no other reason than that it’s kind of funny to continually shame our audience into playing a four-year-old game, however wonderful it might be. Most of us stopped playing it ages ago, and at this point it won’t really affect the franchise’s future if you buy a copy, assuming you can even find it new.
Still, though: you should go play some goddamn Okami already, or we’ll find you.
At the other end of the spectrum is a game we’ve repeatedly encouraged people not to play, but that we keep writing about anyway. 2006’s Jaws Unleashed is moronic, poorly designed and frustrating to play, and yet we can’t seem to keep ourselves from devoting entire articles, theme weeks and episodes of our filthy, stupid show to the thing, years after its release.
Above: HURRRR DURRRR etc.
Of course, the real, dark truth is that we love it anyway. Good lord, how could we not? It’s a game about a super-intelligent shark that eats people in a saltwater sandbox. That it’s objectively godawful is irrelevant.
The de facto mascot for TalkRadar, Duke started life as the bizarre, semi-spontaneous creation of GR’s poop-joke editor, Chris Antista (inspired by the name of Valve marketing VP Doug Lombardi), but quickly took on a life of his own. Beloved by TDar fans for his gruff Chicago patter and shattering glass pants, Duke gradually went from nonsensical rants about Animal Crossing, mummies and hats, to slightly more focused rants about pets, E-rated games and current events.
Above: Art by forum user IWUNapenguin
While we hear less of him these days, Duke still rears his hideous fat head from time to time – although few of his appearances can match the ferocity of his debut in TalkRadar 15:
“Games journalism,” said in a lazy, half-conscious way that betrays a faint contempt for the grim seriousness with which some people insist on viewing games journalism. That, or it’s just fun to comically mutilate common words and phrases in a manner that makes us look both cynical and illiterate.
Above: A gams jarnalist hard at work on groms jarmranism
Above: Here, have a jar of Grandma jam
Whatever the case, this has become the preferred spelling for our profession among TalkRadar fans, and more often than not in the office itself.
The human anus is a remarkably sophisticated organ that, more often than not, can tell the difference between farts and shit and react accordingly. But it’s not a flawless system, and errors in judgment can lead to shitfarts, or “sharts.”
Above: It’s even worse when chainsaw marines squeeze through
A “clustershart,” then, is a word you invent when your bosses tell you you’re not allowed to say “clusterf**k” and you want to make them regret it.
… smells like pizza.
That’s all. Just consider this an object lesson in why you should never broadcast the nicknames or rhymes you were teased with as a kid to your thousands of listeners. Not only will you never hear the end of it, but it’ll be immortalized in a slapdash internet article written by one of your brutish, unfeeling co-workers.
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