In defense of 'Vice City'

Heralded upon its release in 2002, Grand Theft Auto: Vice City is a game that has a dubious honor I will call "the middle child syndrome."

Despite voice acting from Hollywood megastars like Ray Liotta (protagonist Tommy Vercetti), Burt Reynolds (real estate mogul Avery Carrington), NFL tough guy Lawrence Taylor (car salesman and former football pro BJ Smith), Dennis Hopper (porn movie auteur Steve Scott), Debbie Harry (taxi controller) and more, in the years since its release Vice City has been overshadowed by its predecessor GTA3, which rocketed the franchise into 3-D, and its follower San Andreas, heralded at the time for its massive, realistic world.

The high-definition era of Rockstar's signature franchise has revisited Liberty City and San Andreas, but never returned to the sandy, satiric shores of the GTA universe's Miami doppleganger. Some would argue that's because the pastels and excess that made sense in a game set in the 1980s wouldn't work with the new approach Rockstar has taken with the franchise. But many of those themes were present in Grand Theft Auto 5, set in southern California, and Michael De Santa was the closest thematically to Liotta's Vercetti that we've seen inhabiting the shoes of a GTA protagonist since 2002 (white man w/ ties to organized crime).

After achieving 100 percent completion in GTA3 recently, I fired up Vice City, a game I spent a lot of time with in the early 2000s both on my Playstation 2 and PC. The game's look and feel were immediate hooks, but many of the game's missions weren't as memorable as GTA3's were when I was replaying that game. At first, I thought this might be another reason Vice City gets lost in the shuffle of Rockstar's GTA history. But the truth is, it's because Vice City offers greater freedom, while at the same time funneling the player toward a satisfying conclusion to the main storyline, something that subsequent GTA games haven't been able to recapture.

An early mission in Vice City has you attending a yacht party thrown by Colonel Juan Cortez (voiced by 'Goonies' alumnus Robert Davi). At this party, you meet every character of consequence you'll see/work for later in the game: Carrington, Ricardo Diaz (Luis Guzman), Scott, Smith, members of the fictional rock group "Love Fist." Rockstar sets the table for the story of revenge and conquest you're about to embark on.

Then, the first portion of the game has you learning Vice City's new mechanics, like changing outfits, driving motorbikes and piloting helicopters. While these tutorials aren't perfect by any stretch of the imagination (can you say 'Demolition Man'?), the early missions serve as a stepping stone to the freedom that opens up once you waste Diaz.

From there, the decision falls to the player how to proceed. Which assets do you want to acquire? Do you go after the flashy Malibu club and pull off the series first true "heist" sequence (a mission structure revisited in just about every GTA game since)? Do you work for Scott, and find out some secrets about conservative congressman Alex Shrub? Do you spend the most money, but also attain the greatest reward, completing the missions for the Print Works, essential to unlocking the final showdown with mobster Sonny Forelli (Tom Sizemore)? Maybe street racing is your deal. Smith's Sunshine Autos is for you.

In a game series that emphasizes player choice, the way your reach the end game in Vice City is perhaps the most revolutionary that was seen in the franchise until the introduction of heists into GTAV. You choose what story elements you want to unlock first, rather than being guided through a series of missions that will ultimately result in the final confrontation. Not even San Andreas, voted the best GTA game in a fan poll just before the release of GTAV, had that kind of freedom. It's also a callback to the early 2D roots of the GTA series, which required only that you attain a "high score" (cash in the GTA universe) to progress through the game.

Vice City is an imperfect game, to be sure. It's targeting system is still awful, compared to later GTA titles, and the motorbikes just don't handle as well as they could. Many of the game's missions fall prey to the constricted structure of early 3D GTA titles: go here, kill some guys, pick this up, return.

But in terms of player choice, GTA: Vice City is perhaps one of the earliest and most successful experiments in the franchise. And it's still a blast to have that freedom at your fingertips, 14 years later.

What I've learned replaying Grand Theft Auto III

It was Christmas 2001. My mom took my brother and me to the Walmart near our house and picked up the Playstation 2, wrapped in brown packaging paper, which had been put on layaway until our gift exchange on New Year’s. But my brother received an NCAA football game from my grandparents a few days prior, and in my grubby mitts was a shiny new copy of Grand Theft Auto 3. I insisted we travel to pick up the new console right away.

And, within hours, I was transported to the expansive (and inappropriately violent) world of Liberty City. It was a far cry from the small confines of GTA2 on my original Playstation, a game that was inexplicably rated Teen and thus deemed appropriate for my age level by my parents. GTA3 was a hard Mature, but for some crazy reason that still isn’t clear to me I was able to convince my parents I could play it. What followed was my introduction to true 3D gaming, and the narrative potential of the medium that continues to inspire me to this day.
 

What a strange thing, then, to replay the game almost 15 years later, and to realize just how far game design has come in that decade and a half.

If you follow me on Twitch, I’ve been spending many an evening becoming reacquainted with Liberty City. Here are some things I’ve learned.

3D DRIVING WAS STILL A GIMMICK

Many of the early missions in GTA3 have you drive around the block, pick someone up and a cutscene plays. This was groundbreaking gameplay in 2001, when we’d been confined to cars or on-foot action in nearly every game imaginable. Only Driver 2, which had woefully inadequate on-foot action (you couldn’t even shoot!), had attempted this level of immersion before. Only when you’ve completed errands for the mob, and 8-Ball’s explosive-related skills are required in “Bomb da Base,” do the mission structures start to open up and become something special. Everything before that is fetch quests.

RAMPAGES SUCKED

GTAV puts you in the shoes of a rage-fueled Trevor Phillips for its “rampages,” which are just mini-missions all about mayhem. GTA3 locked your choice of weapon, and spawned dozens of manic enemies on the screen at once. Couple those mobs with some truly abysmal targeting controls and you’ve got a recipe for disaster.

THE OVERWHELMING NOW MUNDANE

           

Remember when it seemed like that drove to Joey Leone’s garage from your safehouse took ages? It really took about 45 seconds. The timers in GTA3 seemed way too fast at the time to get from one end of Portland to the next, and I was dreading playing El Burro’s “Turismo” and “Big n’ Veiny” missions again because they were such a chore in my youth. But whether it’s because I’ve had more 3D driving practice or the complicated routes in current-gen open-world titles have hardened my reflexes, getting around Portland is a breeze.
  

ONE-NOTE CHARACTERS

Because GTA3 launched a series of look-alike games set in the criminal underworld, and it was called a “Mafioso masterpiece” upon its release, it’s easy to remember the game as a large step forward in videogame storytelling. The game is the ancestor of a title in GTAV that gave us multiple protagonists, leading wildly different lives on different socioeconomic plains, right? But that would be the wrong thing to remember. GTA3 is full of one-note and, frankly, racist and chauvinistic characters. Perhaps the complaint is unfair, given that the source material that inspired the game (gangster and heist movies) were full of one-note, racist and chauvinist characters, but this is not a major step forward in any way. It’s a simple revenge tale that consists of escalating gang violence that quickly turns allies on all three islands against you.

CHATTERBOX IS AS GREAT AS EVER

The talk radio stations in the GTA franchise have a long and stories history that can be traced to Lazlow and the Chatterbox program in GTA3. While other features of the game have aged poorly, as you’ve seen above, Lazlow’s program retains its biting social commentary and inventive guests and callers. Though the track is woefully short by today’s standards, and would be laughable in the 70+ hour campaign that is available in GTAV, it’s still laugh-out-loud funny for its entire running length and features more memorable moments than any other game in the series.

THE THREE ISLAND DESIGN IS THE WAY TO GO

Complained about heavily when the game first released, and in its subsequent sequels, the idea of revealing the map in waves to the player in GTA3 is undoubtedly a feature that should be reinstated at some point in the franchise, in order to preserve an element of whimsical discovery and a feeling of accomplishment in progressing through the game’s narrative. I’ve spent nearly 10 hours back in just Portland, and I’ve discovered paths I didn’t know existed when the game released even now. There’s something to be said for becoming intimately acquainted with areas of the map, then having the window expanded as you accomplish certain feats in the game. Yes, it’s fun to drive anywhere you want to at the beginning of GTAV. But none of the areas of the map feel special as a result of this freedom, in the same way Francis International Airport, the docks and other areas tantalized you on the Playstation 2.

That’s it for now. I’ll continue to add to this post as I play through Grand Theft Auto 3, and eventually Vice City (it’ll be awhile before I tackle San Andreas, and I did so a couple years ago on my Xbox 360, anyway, so the urgency isn’t really there for me). If you’d like to follow along on my nostalgic adventure, follow twitch.tv/kiphillreporter. 

My favorite movies of 2015 (abridged)

If it isn't abundantly clear at this point, my only free time to add to this blog seems to come at the end of the year. No matter. That's when I like to look back anyway, and to that end, I'm offering single-sentence reviews of all the films I saw this year, ranked in order.

Here we go, starting with the worst.

11) Avengers: Age of Ultron - A paltry 2 hour setup to the same ending we've seen dozens of times in these movies (see: Ant-Man).
10) Man from U.N.C.L.E. - Flashy style and great performances from Henry Cavill and Armie Hammer wasted on a film with no plot and no original ideas.
9) Ant-Man - A really cool heist movie becomes generic blah Marvel nonsense in the last act.
8) Spectre - Sam Mendes eliminates any goodwill with a bloated offering that manages to make Christoph Waltz uninteresting.
7) Steve Jobs - A play shot on the big screen that, like the movies above, isn't sure how to find a resolution without becoming generic and uninteresting.
6) Jurassic World - Dinosaurs run around unencumbered, while Chris Pratt does his best to save this sinking ship.
5) The Hateful Eight - Tarantino's eighth film features more hyper-violence and the dialogue we've come to expect, but the importance of the central "mystery" and bloated run time hold this Western back from being great.
4) Star Wars: The Force Awakens - An imperfect tribute to what made the original trilogy great, while also introducing an intriguing new generation of characters.
3) The Revenant - Leonardo's no good, very bad day has a perfectly good point and its performances are spot on, but its story is a complete mess once you get past the beautiful cinematography.
2) Spotlight - An old-timey feeling film that perfectly captures the triumphs and plight of the print journalist without getting bogged down in hero worship.
1) Mad Max: Fury Road - An action movie that isn't, George Miller's movie defies all expectations and keeps you gripped to your seat for two hours.

Still want to see (look for an update): The Big Short, Inside Out, Ex Machina, Straight Outta Compton, Trainwreck

Why the 'Boardwalk Empire' finale worked so well

The translation isn't perfect, but Aristotle's main point in a quote to which he's attributed is that poetry is often truer than history, for it captures the universal experience, while history is relegated to a particular time and place.


This is the theme “Boardwalk Empire” has flirted with since it debuted on HBO six years ago. A series that consistently dealt you style in addition to (and sometimes, I would argue in lieu of) substance, Terrence Winter's love song to the era that birthed organized crime in the United States consistently took license with the historical record to bring viewers an intensely personal drama.


Boardwalk struggled to recapture its central conflict after Steve Buscemi's Nucky Thompson killed his main threat, Jimmy Darmody, at the end of season 2. We were introduced to Bobby Canavale's brilliant Gyp Rosetti in season 3, then Jeffrey Wright's verbose and wily Valentin Narcisse in season 4, who quickly picked a fight with Michael Kenneth Williams' Chalky White. In the interim, Jack Huston's Richard Harrow tried and failed to establish a normal life for himself after putting that rifle in his mouth in season 2, Nelson Van Alden (Michael Shannon) bumbled his way through a stint in organized crime in Chicago and attracted the attention of Stephen Graham's Al Capone, while Gillian Darmody (Gretchen Mol) descended slowly into an opium-fueled madness that produced some of the series' finest (and creepiest) performances.


It was, to put it mildly, an oft-unfocused mess. While the backdrop of violence, sex and power-grabbing (fueled mostly by the brilliant performances of Vincent Piazza and Anatol Yusef as Charles “Lucky” Luciano and Meyer Lansky, respectivey) always kept viewers glued to the screen, the series was billed as Nucky Thompson's rise and fall from power, a theme that seemed to die along with Jimmy in that rain-soaked construction pit.


Thankfully, season 5 successfully recaptured that spirit, introducing us to a younger Nucky as he developed into the “half-gangster” we say greasin' palms and griftin' so many years ago. And in the series finale, that story arc came full circle in a climax that brilliantly thumbed its nose at history and gave us the poetic end Nucky deserved, rather than the quiet death he received in real life.


Enoch “Nucky” Johnson, the real life mogul that Nucky Thompson is based upon, lived to 85, dying of old age in Northfield, New Jersey, in 1968. Had the writers chosen to give their title character, who differed from the real Johnson in many ways, such an end, it would have been an affront to the decision to make him the source of his own fall from grace. The final moments of the series finale brilliantly blend the fatal pistol blasts from a young Tommy Darmody with the offer of Gillian to the commodore, Nucky's act of desperation for power that spawns all the events of the series. It's an ending that forms a perfect circle and the closure to Nucky's quest for power – and its convoluted telling – that only art, not life, could produce.

Why I hate listening to 'Serial' - but I won't stop

Serial, the latest podcast spin-off of This American Life hosted by producer Sarah Koenig, should be commended for what it is: An extremely well-researched, smartly edited look at an irresistible crime story.


But it lacks the context that makes its parent program such a mainstay of the public radio culture and what elevates crime reporting from a simple recitation of facts (disputed or not) to what it can and should be – a means to question our values and morals, and to shine light on how we treat those in our society who we've decided should be stripped of their rights.


Perhaps it's unfair to judge Serial at this point, just five episodes in to its first season in an endeavor that is obviously different from the Ira Glass-hosted juggernaut. But the program hinges upon your shared curiosity with Koenig, whereas the best pieces of journalism go beyond a reporter's curiosity to hit on themes of what it means to be human. It's no small coincidence that This American Life chooses themes each week, in the oft-repeated catchphrase of Glass, and brings you different stories on that theme. The effect is similar to reading the entirety of a page of a newspaper, I think. We're forced to think about how things we've learned work together and inform the world around us.


Serial is told entirely within the world of Adnan Syed, Hae Min Lee and a relatively small set of supporting characters from around Baltimore. Aside from a few brief and tantalizing clips in the episode exploring Syed and Lee's romantic relationship, issues of race, socioeconomic background and religion are largely played down for Koenig to narratively unfold her reporting. It's an addictive, yet reductive, way to tell a story, especially when you consider we're basically listening to the same pretrial occurrences each and every week, told in a different way.


I'm currently reading “Invention of Murder: How the VictoriansReveled in Death and Detection and Created Modern Crime” by Judith Flanders. The book's ambling thesis is this: As humans, we're morbidly fascinated with death, especially when it has to do with the young, love and passion. We've got all three ingredients in Serial, and while Koenig does a more-than-admirable job of presenting the tale, I can't shake the feeling – in the first five episodes at least – she's painting by numbers, following a storytelling formula that's been beaten to death in paperback fiction piling up in used book stores.



I hope she and her team prove me wrong as the podcast progresses, because I will say I am hopelessly hooked like so many others. But when I'm done listening, I feel more like I've scarfed down a fast food meal than dug in to a meaty storytelling experience.

Couch Surfin': The Memorable 'Sopranos' Saga

I was a little late to the party on "The Sopranos." It was always on my list of shows to watch, but for some reason "House," "The Wire" and "How I Met Your Mother" took precedence during my college days of lazily binge-watching online episodes between classes, runs and work.

With the death of James Gandolfini last summer, I figured I owed it to his memory and to my own sensibilities to give the series its due. It took me a year, but I finished the saga this weekend and am in the reflective mood.

The below list may not be the finest episodes of David Chase's classic HBO series, for which we can thank the future airing of shows like "The Wire," "Boardwalk Empire" and "Breaking Bad." Gandolfini and co. showed us we could stomach adult drama on premium television outside the boundaries of traditional broadcast "seasons" and exceeding the content allowed by censors. It may not be the best of that bunch, but it blazed a trail we can duly credit as creating the glut of fantastic TV drama we enjoy today.

SPOILERS BELOW. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

"College"
Originally aired: Feb. 7, 1999


"Am I in the what?"

The draw of "The Sopranos," from the beginning, was the centralized character of Tony Soprano, a flawed leader who is trying to juggle the modern demands of fatherhood while reconciling his violent identity as a leader of organized crime. No episode portrays this better than "College," and there's good reason it's cited by many as the best episode of the series. Contrast the above scene, where Tony attempts to rationalize his role to his daughter, Meadow, with the chilling scene where he strangles an old foe. There's a reason "The Sopranos" hit it big early, and "College" was a major part of that.

"House Arrest"
Originally aired: March 26, 2000


"I don't give a shit if you're working with Wal-Mart. Knock it the fuck off."

The downfall of Vito Corleone was his unwillingness to sell hard drugs. There are echoes of "The Godfather," "Goodfellas" and countless other gangster film classics in "The Sopranos." The characters are self-aware that their leading lives glamorized by modern media. The writers co-opted this disdain for hard drugs in Tony's character and his memorable spat with Richie Aprile, setting up the eventual showdown with Uncle Junior that was the basis for much of the dramatic tension in the show's first few seasons. "House Arrest" is also memorable for showing Tony's commitment (and addiction) to the lifestyle. When his lawyer orders him to lay low, Tony's inability to interact with his criminal crew becomes an unbearable burden.

"The Knight in White Satin Armor"
Originally aired: April 2, 2000


"Ballroom dancing is a legitimate art form."

The spat between Richie Aprile and Tony was clearly headed for some kind of resolution, though who would have guessed it would be Janice who put the beef to bed? "The Knight in White Satin Armor" is notable for its exploration of the relationship between Tony and Janice, a complicated tete a tete that lasted for the entirety of the show's run. Gandolfini shows his chops in the scene when he discovers Aprile is dead. There's a look of relief, surprise and - dare I say it - admiration when he sees Richie lying dead in Janice's arms.

"Funhouse"
Originally aired: April 9, 2000


"Why you making me do this, you fat, miserable, piece of fuckin' shit?"

The writers gave us little time to grieve for Richie Aprile before offing Salvatore "Big Pussy" Bonpensiero the next week. Pussy was ratting to the FBI, and when Tony finds out, he orders the hit. Pussy's death becomes a major theme throughout the rest of the show, with Vincent Pastore making multiple guest appearances as Tony's subconscious wrangles with having to "deal with" one of his best friends and top earners. There's a memorable mirror in the final season, as Paulie Walnuts thinks back to Pussy's death and believes Tony's out to off him, too.

"Pine Barrens"
Originally aired: May 6, 2001


"You had Tic-Tacs all along? Give me some!"

Steve Buscemi lent his considerable talents to this episode behind the camera, considered another of the series' best, before appearing as Tony's cousin in Season 5. As bit characters go, Christopher Moltisanti and Paulie Gualtieri are perhaps the most interesting in "Sopranos" lore. Christopher must deal with the struggles of being the youngest among the made guys and having his balls constantly broken. Add in substance addiction and constant grief with Paulie, and you have a character that played a huge role in the series' run despite never fully receiving top billing. In "Pine Barrens," we see that constant grief play out in a way that sows seeds for conflict to come.

"Amor Fou"
Originally aired: May 13, 2001


"Kill me. Kill me, you cocksucker."

Of all Tony's love affairs, the most dangerous turned out to be with the beautiful and demented car dealer, Gloria Trillo. She grows jealous of his wife, and his other women, and is one of the few who calls him out on it, prompting a violent showdown that terrifies Tony to his core. Though he sleeps with many women, it is Gloria who continues to recur in his mind long after he learns of her suicide. There's a reason. She illustrates the same mental weakness as him, and he worries her inability to cope reflects a similar possibility within himself.

"Whoever Did This"
Originally aired: November 10, 2002


"That's funny about God, and faith, and shit like that." 

It's tough to pick one episode where Ralph Cifaretto can be best remembered. His strange sexual relationship with Janice, and jokes about Johnny Sack's wife and obsession with the film "Gladiator" provided a constant burr in Tony's saddle. So it's unsurprising that Tony takes care of Ralph, but it is surprising about what puts him over the edge: the death of his prized race horse. The resulting cleanup brings Christopher and Tony closer together, but also reveals the extent of his drug addiction that will ultimately prove to be his downfall with Tony.

"The Strong, Silent Type"
Originally aired: November 17, 2002


"You're weak. You're out of control. And you've become an embarrassment to yourself and everybody else."

It's hard to pick what is most memorable about "The Strong, Silent Type." Tony sleeping with Svetlana, which eventually becomes the basis for his separation from Carmela. The painting of Pie-O-My that eventually finds its way to Paulie's mantle, and becomes the basis for Tony's disdain later in the series. The growing unease between Furio and Carmela. For my money, it's Christopher's intervention, which eventually sets him on the beleaguered path to get sober. The scene is at once darkly comic, wrought with tension and one of the few times the members of Tony's personal family and criminal family interact on a personal level. It's one of the most memorable scenes of the series.

"Unidentified Black Males"
Originally aired: May 2, 2004


"Fuck his foot! It's not his foot! Forget the foot!"

Another episode that's difficult to pin down one or two memorable moments alone. Growing tension between Tony and his cousin Tony (Steve Buscemi) leads to a revelation in Dr. Melfi's office, however, that is one of the most superbly acted scenes in the series. Tony reveals his guilt that his cousin went to prison, and not him, because of a panic attack following an argument with his mother. It's a brief moment of insight that brings Tony to his knees, and it's a shame the whole scene isn't on YouTube. Meanwhile, Finn witnesses Vito in a compromising position that leads to a memorable story arc in the next season.

"Long Term Parking"
Originally aired: May 23, 2004


"Jesus, I don't even know how to say this. It's Christopher."

It's tough to watch "The Sopranos" and not feel slightly sorry for Adriana. Christopher goes through mood swings and she stands dutifully by his side, even through the worst possible drug addiction. A perceived fling with Tony creates friction between the two, but she comes back into his arms. Then, when she seeks to confide in him and get away from the life, he turns around and sells her out to Tony and Syl, who then use her concern for Christopher to entrap her. What's incredibly heartbreaking is that Adriana imagines leaving before agreeing to the ride with Syl. The execution scene is painful to watch, and becomes a source of conflict between Tony and Christopher in ensuing seasons.

"Johnny Cakes"
Originally aired: April 30, 2006


"Listen, Marie, I'm sorry all this had to happen. I never meant to hurt you."

Vito Spatafore went from an interesting bit character to a full-blown story arc in the first half of the Sopranos' sixth season. His struggle with his sexuality, and the differing opinions it inspires in Tony, his crew and the families, provides an original look into modern perceptions about homosexuality and perfect fodder for Phil Leotardo's eventual vendetta against Tony. John Costelloe offers an inspired turn as Jim "Johnny Cakes" Witowski. That Joseph Gannascoli, the actor who portrayed Vito, brought the idea for his character being gay to David Chase and never received top recognition for his performance or idea is a disgrace.

"Second Coming"
Originally aired: May 20, 2007


"You're OK, baby. You're OK, baby."

Anthony Jr. was always an impediment to Tony's mental well-being. He worries about his son all the time, and as Meadow rightfully points out to her brother, it's because he's the only son in an Italian family that Tony is able to be floored by the depression of his son. While the abrupt departure of Blanca throws him into a depressed funk, neither Tony nor Carmella really believe he's at his wit's end until an ill-fated suicide attempt in the family pool. Tony's reaction - immediate rage, then a return to the fatherly instinct of protection - is at once profound and extremely telling about his character. Even in the midst of a potentially life-ending conflict with Phil Leotardo, Tony reverts to his fatherhood role in an instant.

"Made in America" 
Originally aired: June 10, 2007


"I went ahead and ordered some for the table."

What discussion of memorable scenes from "The Sopranos" would be complete without a nodding reference to the final scene? Much maligned when it aired, the final moments of the Sopranos family on the small screen made me squeal with existential joy. Who is that man who goes to the bathroom? Who does Tony see when he looks up to the ringing of the bell at the door? Which "evil at the door" - the remnants of Phil Leotardo's crew, a disenchanted Paulie Walnuts or the "80 to 90 percent chance" of federal indictment will fall Tony Soprano? David Chase decided to let the viewers sort that out, rather than end his series with a definitive answer. As an avid opponent of post-modern non-endings, I can't believe I'm typing these words. But this was the perfect way to end Tony's story. Full stop.

What about you? What moments in Sopranos history do you remember most?

An Inexplicably Close Look at an Obscure Song: "Rock the House" by Gorillaz feat. Del Tha Funky Homosapien

This one hurts.

"Gorillaz" was one of my favorite albums growing up. I still remember picking my jaw off the floor the first time I saw "Clint Eastwood" on MTV. Here was something that had never been tried before, at least on this scale - a completely animated band of misfit musicians, with their own backstories, headed by the brilliant Damon Albarn and for some reason some "Thriller" inspired monkeys. Dude, how are you NOT going to buy that album immediately?

And one of the coolest parts of the debut video was Del tha Funky Homosapien, who has some of the sickest rhymes out there, playing a zombified Russel, the beat man. If you don't still get a chill when Del raps, "time for me is nothin' 'cuz I'm countin' no age," then you didn't grow up in the early 2000s.

So what the fuck happened with "Rock the House"?

Take all of the lyrical genius of "Clint Eastwood" and throw it out the window. Sure, that horn line is catchy. I mean, every program on music television (MTV, VH1, what have you) used it as intro/outro music. It is a fantastic beat, there's no question. But is it really "Rock the House" material?

"I got the balls to rock the salsa" Yeah. You actually heard that.

We're in 2014, and I've still yet to find someone who can tell me why one needs to shake their asscrack when simply shaking their ass will do. And, I mean, look at that video! Del is essentially the bad guy in the opening scene of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Come on, guys. Surely we can do better than this.

Del's involvement with the band ended with that self-title debut in 2001, and I can't help but think lines like "Get funky we've been funkadelic wearin' Pampers/While you eggheads is on the wall preparin' answers," had something to do with that. Del, we loved you in Tony Hawk 3, why must you give us this?

Of course, I could be looking at this too closely.