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Most Helpful Customer Reviews
5 of 7 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
This is what happens when crack and ink collide.,
By A Customer
This review is from: Authorized Dikatana Strategy Guide (Paperback)
I was skeptical when I first saw this book,thinking to myself, "Ha! Another attempt by those damned Venutians to steal my hard-earned caish!" (while it's not generally known, those of us on the 'inside' know that renowned author Glenn Broderick is an alien). Eventually, the voice with which Broderick has been telepathically tormenting me won out, and I purchased the book. For the first time in my life, I was actually grateful for that voice! This book rocks! How do I describe it? hmm...let me put it this way: if Hemingway never wrote "A Farewell to Arms," but instead decided to sit back and drink for days on end, the contents of this book are probably what would've been rattling around inside his alcohol-clouded mind. That makes sense, right? To put it more clearly,let me say this: before reading "Daikatana: Authorized Strategy Guide" (I LOVE how they left out 'The'...so avant garde), I used to play the piano incessantly and fiddle with accordian. Now, I just hang around seedy bars and talk to brandy snifters. What a difference that book has made! Now, I know it has some shortcomings. For example, it was never published. And I know the author has some shortcomings. For example, he has a penchant for hanging around "backstage" at dwarf conventions. But when all's said and done, you're simply NOT going to find a more important book this century. When our children's children look back at this century, 3 things are going to stand out: Real Time Harnett Shaming, da' Waffen SS, and Glenn Broderick's "Daikatana: Authorized Strategy Guide." Boo ya! Boo ya! Boo ya!
6 of 10 people found the following review helpful:
1.0 out of 5 stars
An obsession gone wrong...,
By A Customer
This review is from: Authorized Dikatana Strategy Guide (Paperback)
Ever since I read Official War Gods Battle Guide, I've been fascinated with the work of Glenn Broderick. Shortly after my parole was granted, I obtained a copy of Daikatana: Authorized Strategy Guide and became obsessed with the promising young author. I fantasized about meeting him and swapping stories over drinks, discussing his signature right-mouse button firing style or perhaps gaining insight into his peerless evasive tactics. And then without warning, without expectation, the sky opened and the opportunity was presented.No...literally...the sky opened, a beam of light appeared, and there before me stood the likeness of the very man I stared at every night on the jacket sleeve of War Gods. In accordance with my fellow reviewer, I can attest that Glenn Broderick is, or was I should say, in fact, alien. The strangest thing about it though is that there was nothing glamorous about him. One might surmise that an alien would exhibit certain superhuman characteristics that would appear attractive or appealing to the human sort. Broderick exudes no such traits. In fact, upon Broderick's materialization, a noxious odor, a genuine "funk," permeated the air, dropping me to my knees. But I found fortitude in my obsession, and mustered the energy to stumble toward the presence. He doesn't speak English, that's for sure! Which leads me to believe that his works are the toils of an enslaved misfortunate, no doubt a meek adolescent. His language seemed to emphasize particular Western letters; the phrases "E.A.D." and "F-ed" and "F-stick" flowed freely from his onerous mouth. Though I was starting to realize the fraud "Broderick's" publisher had dispelled, I attempted to communicate with the alien for fear that turning my back may provoke it into some action that resulted in my own scripting of Return to DOOM: Official Walkthroughs and Maps. My queries were met with a bitterness I had never before encountered. With bent spine, the alien hissed and scowled. It patted down the front pockets of its dungaree pants, as if searching for a lighter, or matches, or something, and went into a raving spasm upon coming up empty-handed. This was about all I could take, and fortunately, I was carrying my RPG Grenade Launcher, so I blasted the wretched creature to smithereens. The name Glenn Broderick will no longer fill my inquisitive mind with false hopes of enlightenment, but rather with the memory of a fully distasteful experience and a grotesque vision of alien viscera.
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