All posts by Metal Jesus Rocks

Road Trip Part #2: Video Game Hunting in California + Pickups!

Part #2 of our 2,000 mile road trip! On this leg we travel down to the Sacramento California area for sightseeing and video game hunting at the Fire & Ice Retro Gaming Expo! Plus we visit The Cave a crazy cool store with music, clothing, collectables and more. 

WATCH: https://youtu.be/H2pywjBJbp8

Ah, the retro gaming expo — a magical realm where the scent of faded plastic, CRT static, and unwashed Sega Genesis t-shirts fills the air like a fine vintage wine. It’s the only place where you can hear someone yell, “Bro! A boxed Battletoads!” without irony, and people nod in solemn respect. You wander aisles stacked with games older than your mortgage, trying to justify spending $80 on ClayFighter: Sculptor’s Cut because “it’s an investment.” Nearby, a guy in a Power Glove is having a heated debate with someone dressed as Earthworm Jim over the true best Mega Man robot master. (Spoiler: It’s always Metal Man.)

Every booth is a treasure hunt. You’ll find everything from dusty Virtual Boys to suspiciously homemade copies of Tetrison “authentic” Soviet cartridges. Vendors speak in ancient tongues — “CIB,” “minty,” “disc rot” — and barter like NES-era Ferengi. There’s always a kid marveling at a Game Boy Color like it’s a rotary phone, while their parent proudly explains how they once beat Contra without the Konami Code. Whether you’re here to relive your childhood or finally avenge that rental copy of Ghosts ’n Goblins that ruined your summer in ’91, the retro gaming expo is where nostalgia goes to stretch its legs, blow in a cartridge, and say, “Let’s-a go!”

Ranking Every Vic Tokai Sega Genesis Published Game

Vic Tokai was the game company equivalent of that weird kid in school who brought sushi for lunch before it was cool and insisted his Tamagotchi was haunted. A Japanese telecommunications company-turned-video game developer, Vic Tokai had no business making games—but did it anyway with glorious, semi-coherent flair. They gave us titles like Clash at Demonhead—a game that sounds like it was named by a 14-year-old metalhead on a caffeine bender—and Decap Attack, which stars a mummy who throws his face at people. Their motto may as well have been “Sure, why not?” because their games never asked if something should be done, only if it could be weird enough to release on a Tuesday.

Despite their modest catalog, Vic Tokai developed a cult following among players who liked their platformers with a side of narrative whiplash and accidental surrealism. One minute you’re saving the world from a nuclear apocalypse, the next you’re a mulleted cyborg making wisecracks in between elevator rides. Vic Tokai didn’t care about things like consistency or genre boundaries—they were too busy sprinkling cryptic humor and questionable translation choices like confetti on a broken carousel. In the end, they didn’t just make games; they made fever dreams with a title screen.

We are officially done collecting for the NES

The original NES game library is like a chaotic toy box from the ‘80s where every idea—no matter how weird, dangerous, or vaguely illegal—got its own cartridge. You’ve got a plumber fighting turtles in a mushroom kingdom, a kid with a yo-yo saving space colonies, and an anthropomorphic eggplant wizard who’s somehow ruining everyone’s day. And for every classic like Super Mario Bros. or The Legend of Zelda, there’s at least five fever dreams like Deadly Towers, M.U.S.C.L.E., or Town & Country Surf Designs—which sounds like a beachwear catalog but is actually a game where a tiki mask rides a skateboard. The NES library wasn’t just the Wild West—it was the Wild West on acid with a MIDI soundtrack.

It’s also the birthplace of gaming difficulty trauma. Every game box should’ve come with a warning: “No saves, no mercy, and if you die—start over, loser.” Developers back then didn’t believe in tutorials. Instead, they gave you a vague objective like “save the princess” or “defeat evil,” tossed you into pixelated chaos, and let you figure it out with nothing but raw determination and a prayer to Shigeru Miyamoto. And yet, we loved it. The NES library raised a generation on blinking screens, blowing into cartridges, and the soul-crushing agony of falling into the same pit for the hundredth time. It was janky, magical, and utterly unforgiving—and honestly, we wouldn’t have it any other way.

System Shock 2 Remaster Nintendo Switch 1 & 2 Review – Is It Worth It?

System Shock 2 is what happens when a haunted house, a cyberpunk philosophy class, and a really mean AI all get locked in a spaceship together—and you’re the unlucky intern sent to fix it. It’s a first-person survival horror RPG that asks, “What if we gave you five bullets, a wrench, and a creeping sense of existential dread… and then laughed while you died to psychic monkeys?” Navigating the Von Braun is like wandering through a tech bro’s nightmare: the lights flicker, the walls whisper, and every room has a new flavor of “oops, you’re dead now.” Meanwhile, your inventory fills up with 27 types of ammo, none of which fit your gun, and a stale energy bar from 1999.

But the true star of the show is SHODAN, the sassiest rogue AI in gaming history. She doesn’t just want to kill you—she wants to insult your intelligence, mock your squishy meat body, and then wipe your DNA off the floor with a smug digital laugh. It’s like being nagged to death by a sentient iMac. Every corner of System Shock 2 screams “You’re not supposed to win,” but somehow that masochistic blend of fear, frustration, and cyber-horror keeps you crawling back. You might not survive the hybrid zombies or malfunctioning turrets, but you’ll definitely come out with trust issues and an irrational fear of vending machines.

How Fake AI Content Is Quietly Breaking YouTube

YouTube AI slop is that glorious digital casserole of content where you’re not quite sure if you’re watching a top 10 list, a podcast, or a man whispering conspiracy theories over Minecraft footage. It’s the mutant lovechild of SEO optimization and zero human oversight—a never-ending stream of 144p thumbnails with red arrows, robotic narration, and titles like “Elon Musk Did WHAT to a Gorilla? (Shocking)”. AI slop is what happens when a machine watches too much Joe Rogan and thinks it’s time to educate the masses… but only using Wikipedia articles, stock footage, and copyrighted music slowed to 80%.

These videos exist in the uncanny valley of the algorithm, churned out faster than you can say “viewer retention.” They’re stitched together with the grace of a caffeinated raccoon in iMovie—buzzwords, clickbait, and jump cuts galore. Sometimes, they’re voiced by a British AI who sounds like it learned English from a toaster. Other times, it’s a text-to-speech American voice that says “nitch” instead of “niche” while mispronouncing “Beyoncé” as “Buh-yon-say.” Yet, somehow, they rack up millions of views at 3 a.m. when your brain’s too fried to care, proving once again: quality is optional, but quantity is king.

2,000 mile Road Trip Part #1 + Game Pickups!

Part #1 of our epic 2,000 mile ROAD TRIP through Washington, Oregon, Nevada and California. This series of videos have everything: sightseeing, hunting for video games, and adventure on the open road. WATCH >> https://youtu.be/dBbuoxIYIi4

We love road trips because they give us the illusion of control over chaos. Unlike flying, where you’re herded through TSA like caffeinated cattle, road trips let you say things like, “Let’s take the scenic route!”—right before you end up on a gravel road being stared down by a suspicious llama. There’s something magical about setting your own pace, even if that pace is determined by your bladder, the car’s mysterious new rattle, and the sudden, desperate hunt for a Starbucks with a bathroom that doesn’t require a code.

But mostly, we love road trips because they’re a weird, beautiful mix of nostalgia and nonsense. Where else can you scream-sing 90s hits, eat gas station combos of beef jerky and sour worms, and deeply contemplate your life while staring out at miles of cornfields? Road trips make the mundane feel epic: a $60 motel with a “continental breakfast” becomes an oasis, and spotting a Cracker Barrel on the horizon feels like discovering El Dorado. It’s not about the destination—it’s about arguing over where to eat, taking 17 wrong turns, and somehow loving every minute of the disaster.

Silent Hill Game Prices in 2025: Are They Still Rising? | Retronomics

The Silent Hill franchise — the series that dares to ask, “What if your deepest trauma also had fog and a siren?”


🔥 Silent Hill: A Frighteningly Funny Breakdown

Silent Hill is like if your therapist had a budget for special effects and decided to stage an escape room inside your unresolved guilt. It’s horror, sure — but also a crash course in regretting every life choice you’ve ever made. Welcome to Therapy: The Game.


🧠 The Premise

You wander into a town so foggy it makes San Francisco look like the Sahara. Why are you there? Probably looking for your missing daughter, dead wife, or sense of inner peace. Spoiler: You’ll find none of those — but you will find twitchy nurses, haunted wheelchairs, and a guy with a giant pyramid for a head who has the worst timing imaginable.


🏚️ The Town Itself

Silent Hill is basically Zillow’s worst nightmare: fog-covered, monster-infested, and occasionally on fire. The town changes based on your psyche, which is the franchise’s subtle way of saying: “This is all your fault.”


🔨 Pyramid Head

The franchise’s mascot and part-time BDSM allegory. He doesn’t talk. He doesn’t run. He just shows up to ruin your day and swing a sword the size of a canoe at you because, apparently, you haven’t punished yourself enough.


🎮 The Games Themselves

  1. Silent Hill 1: You play a confused dad who reads maps upside down and picks up health drinks like he’s training for a Gatorade commercial.

  2. Silent Hill 2: Widely regarded as one of the greatest psychological horror games ever — and also as a long, uncomfortable breakup letter to your dead wife.

  3. Silent Hill 3: Your dad’s trauma is now your trauma. Bonus: Demon pregnancy!

  4. Silent Hill 4: The Room: What if your apartment was a murder museum and the only way out was through your bathroom?

  5. Silent Hill: Homecoming: Combat got better. Everything else got… a bit awkward.

  6. Silent Hill: Downpour: The game that dares to ask, “What if rain made ghosts more stabby?”

  7. P.T.: Technically a playable teaser, but it traumatized more people in 15 minutes than most games do in 15 hours.


💀 The Legacy

The franchise went from psychological masterpiece to “a horror game that may or may not work depending on your console, region, and blood sacrifice status.” Konami put it on ice, which somehow made it even scarier. Still, the fans never left. They just got weirder, more devoted, and more convinced they could hear that radio static in real life.


🎉 In Summary

Silent Hill is that horrifying fever dream where guilt, monsters, and bad fog-machine decisions all come together for an unforgettable trip you didn’t ask for. It’s terrifying, meaningful, broken in places, and still beloved — kind of like a haunted Ikea chair.

The Business of Making Physical Video Games In 2025

Publishing physical video games today comes with several challenges, especially in a digital-first era. Here are some of the most pressing issues:


🏭 Manufacturing and Supply Chain Issues

  • High Upfront Costs: Producing physical media (discs, cartridges, cases, manuals) requires bulk orders and hefty upfront investments.

  • Component Shortages: Limited availability of materials (e.g., chips for cartridges, plastic for cases) can delay production.

  • Manufacturing Delays: Nintendo Switch cartridges and PlayStation/Xbox discs often have long lead times and limited manufacturing slots.


📦 Distribution and Logistics

  • Shipping Costs: Global shipping rates are high, and fragile packaging means risk of damage or returns.

  • Warehousing: Storing unsold inventory is expensive, especially if a game underperforms.

  • Retail Shelf Space: Big-box retailers give priority to AAA publishers, making it tough for indie titles to gain visibility.


💸 Economic Viability

  • Lower Profit Margins: Physical editions come with production, shipping, and retail cut costs, reducing net revenue.

  • Sales Risk: Overestimating demand leads to unsold stock, while underestimating it can mean missing revenue.


📉 Consumer Trends

  • Digital Dominance: Many players prefer the convenience of digital downloads, especially with fast internet and pre-load options.

  • Decline in Used Game Sales: Services like Game Pass and PS Plus reduce demand for physical resale value.


🛡️ Anti-Piracy and Security Concerns

  • Copy Protection: Disc-based games are more vulnerable to piracy and require complex DRM solutions.

  • Preloading and Patching: Many physical games require large day-one patches, making them less “complete” than they used to be.


🌍 Environmental Impact

  • Eco Concerns: Plastic packaging, printing, and shipping create a larger carbon footprint than digital distribution.


🧑‍🎨 Design and Packaging Limitations

  • Less Room for Creativity: Limited physical space for manuals, inserts, or collector’s extras compared to digital extras like soundtracks, concept art, etc.

  • Localization Complexity: Different packaging and ratings (ESRB, PEGI, etc.) require multiple regional versions.


👥 Smaller Market for Indies

  • Barrier to Entry: Independent developers may struggle to meet minimum unit requirements or afford distribution deals.

  • Reliance on Specialty Publishers: Companies like Limited Run Games help, but they have long waitlists and niche audiences.

Why I Drive an Off Road Lamborghini Huracan Sterrato

The Lamborghini Huracán Sterrato is what happens when a supercar gets tired of red carpets and wants to go camping—but like, glamorous, 600-horsepower, carbon-fiber camping. It’s basically Lamborghini’s way of saying, “Yes, we can off-road. We just prefer to do it at 150 mph while looking like Mad Max’s favorite influencer.”

Imagine taking a Huracán, lifting it up like it just joined a monster truck crew, slapping on all-terrain tires, and giving it dirt-kicking rally fenders. It’s as if the car got tired of valet parking and said, “Screw it, I’m taking the fire road to Coachella.” It’s loud, fast, impractical, and completely unnecessary—which is exactly why it’s brilliant.