When it was finally rebooted properly, that new vision never really held. It wasn’t long before the updates became few and far between. There was something that was never quite right about it, but we tried to push on.

Recently, after some discussion, the plan became to re-imagine Slantmouth once again, but at what point does Slantmouth stop being Slantmouth? We feel we may have reached that point. Rather than doing something completely different and slapping the name and logo on the front, it may be time to move on.

So, with a heavy heart, we’re going to close down the hallowed digital doors of Slantmouth. The updates may stop but it will remain visible as a monument to a time in our lives were we did something we really cared about. It was a time that can never be relived or replaced. But now it’s time to move on to other things. We can only hope we ever care as much about them.

Colonel Moses and I will be alive and well, but running a website has put a major cramp in our adventuring muscle. It’s time for us to get back on the streets full force and unleash ourselves on the unsuspecting public. There are adventures to be had, men to be beaten to a pulp, and snide comments to be made about George W. Bush. It’s all a ton of hard work, but we were willing and able then, and we are more than willing and able now.

Thank you for everything.

- Julius Serpentine

But what’s really baffling is that no one came by the Slantmouth office to give us a free 3DS. I’m sure they had a few well thought out reasons, but I’d like to posit my own theory: racism. Also, maybe, sexism.

Pictured above, the blindingly white hands of journalism.

You may have noticed that all of the recipients in the videos and pictures are white. Well, I’ve got news for you; I’m not white. You may have also noticed that all of the delivery women, including those of various colors and ethnicities, were forced to wear all white, as if to cover up their multicolored heritage. Even the all-black 3DS’s being given are enclosed in plain white boxes, no doubt in an effort to stomp out what makes the 3DS unique and black [and proud]. This is a disturbing pattern.

I can already see someone arguing, “The games journalism field is made up almost entirely of white men. Also, you guys aren’t even games journalists.” To your first point hypothetical Internet-Man, I’m pretty sure that’s not my problem. I’m not here to dissect game journalism’s stance on affirmative action or whatever. I’m here to talk about people not giving me free things. To your second point, die in a fire, hypothetically.

Welcome to the games journalism dungeon, ladies.

Earlier, I mentioned sexism as a possible alternate theory and if you’re looking for me to back that up at some point you’re going to be waiting an awfully long time, like until after the point where you’re a pile of dust. I don’t really have a lot to back that up, but I do know that where there’s accusations of racism, sexism isn’t far behind. I just wanted to keep my bases covered. Though, if I really want to go to bat for the women of color forced to wear strap-on electronic devices, purely in the context of hyping videogames, I will say it seems a little strange to have all of these ladies marching around from place-to-place just to deliver 3DS hardware. I think we have UPS for this kind of thing. At least they let people proudly display their brown heritage right on their sleeve.

I’d like to close with one of my patented reviews where I change my opinion drastically in the course of a single sentence: the 3DS was pretty neat when I saw it at GDC, but, you know, it’s probably going to make us all go blind.

Thinking about this led me to ask myself, when videogames finally mature to the point where they’re not all about a man shooting a multitude of other men in the face/crouch/ass/thorax, will they finally be able to simulate the threats of people who sit at desks and stare at computers for a living? I ask because I’d also like to have less violent dreams – unless those dreams also include me being able to swing around like Spider-Man or fly like Superman or if that violence is being done to someone I don’t like – while simultaneously not feeling completely helpless.

That’s pretty good, Will, but how do I add more computer screens and more chairs and more sadness.

I don’t know how far the medium is going to have to go as an art form to finally provide me, a person who happily sits at a desk and looks at a computer screen for most of his waking hours, with something I can actually relate to. Will there ever be a game that can act as an accurate threat simulator for my life? Other than the real world activities required to experience the existing killing simulators, like sitting in a chair and staring at a monitor or sitting in a chair and staring at the cousin of the monitor, the television, what can games offer me to prepare for my everyday life?

I don’t have a lot of conclusions to offer, just questions. Maybe, the videogame industry can get someone smart on this problem, like the master of simulating things in games, Will Wright. Simulate me something, Will.

In an effort to publicize Ms. Splosion Man, Josh Bear, the Chief Creative Officer of Twisted Pixel, spoke with Kotaku about the game and his dream in which Shigeru Miyamoto takes a dump.

In the dream, as Bear tells it, Miyamoto gets off the toilet, wipes, then gives Bear a hug.

It’s hard not to notice that Miyamoto fails to pull up his pants before embracing Bear. I’m sure in the excitement of meeting Josh Bear, maker of games he’s never heard of, he forgot that usually when a man embraces another man for the first time, the protocol is to firmly fasten your pants around your waist. Not here, pal. In this nightmarish dreamscape, the creator of Mario leaves his creativity divining rod hanging out there, so that, in the midst of a completely manly embrace, Josh Bear can maybe glean a little creativity to be used in Ms. Splosion Man.

Go ahead. Enter my factory of funness. Just follow the river of… err, chocolate.

Bear goes on to explain that Miyamoto took him “through his factory of funness.” I don’t even really want to think about that one very much. I’d prefer to leave the road to Miyamoto’s fun factory a path less traveled.

To complete the Poopy Wonka parallels, there is even a song in the dream, which goes, “Me and Miyamoto, strolling hand in hand / Me and Miyamoto, friendship never ends.” Needless to say, when someone is such a big fan of Miyamoto that they’re dreaming of him taking a crap, it’s probably of little consequence that they’re holding his unwashed, assy hand.

I’m not sure what anyone is supposed to be learn from all of this, other than that the place in your heart where all of your hurt goes is probably where dreams like this come from.

The podcast publishing schedule has been all over the place, but we’re working hard to stabilize it. So, expect new episodes Wednesdays or Thursdays. While everyone likes a good surprise now and then, we feel like we’ve being surprising people more than enough by actually updating anything at all. We don’t want to be responsible for one of the geriatric, pill-huffing members of our audience dropping dead from surprise-related cardiac arrest because our latest podcast sprung on them like a tiger hiding in the tall grass. A little warning will go a long way towards us not being sued and having to take a court ordered ‘casting hiatus, registering the show on iTunes as a lethal weapon, and sponge bathing seniors at a nursing home to complete our community service hours.

In completely unrelated news, I’ll be hanging out with people who make videogames for a living next week at the Game Developers Conference in San Francisco. I’ll try to count the number of anime tee shirts and pit stains while I’m there. Look for updates on an upcoming podcast.