IN ASSASSIN’S CREED III, A REVOLUTION IS BEING FOUGHT. On one hand, British insurgents, along with a hodgepodge of other Europeans, fight to be free of the British Empire and make a new home in America. On the other, our lead character struggles to be free of the constraints that a racially troubled media environment puts on him.
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IT’S STILL VERY EARLY IN THE PRESIDENTIAL RACE, but once again, The Donald has upset expectations by bravely appearing without his Gaga-like head adornment. How will the current field of candidates respond?
ONE DAY, YOU WAKE UP IN A LABORATORY. You have been captured and are being held hostage. The only freedom you may see again is running wild through the dreamstate memories of your own DNA. Limp on a table, you are also far away, wreaking havoc in the name of peace, and all for the Brotherhood of Assassins….
THE TALE OF THE ANTI-HERO is a true tale. It is the tale of most humans. Imperfect beings who strive to do good and to express the care and justice in their heart, but who are bound to become stained with ingloriousness on the way, because, well—it’s a battlefield out here.
THROUGH IDEALIZED, OVERSIMPLIFIED AND REDUCTIVE NARRATIVES, it is easy to construct a false world for children that springs more out of what we wish were true today, than what they must be steeled to meet. But leave the idea of righteous resistance out of a person’s mental toolbox and you are preparing them to be a victim.
THUS BEGINS a 10-PART SERIES examining the various titles, characters, and dynamics—literary and psycho-social—that make the popular game what it is. Dare to approach, finally, a chilling theory about the entire storyline that may explain more than even the game-makers intended us to know….
CREAKILY SHUFFLING ACROSS THE HOT SANDS OF THE BAHAMAS, Ozombie Bin Hidin’ eyes a gorgeous, plush, beach towel. He puts it on his C.I.A. tab, along with an icy Manhattan, and looks for some shade.
THE DAYS THAT WE LONGED FOR IN JANUARY have arrived, spilling all the gold promised at our feet. The wind is warm, the rain and mildew of Winter are gone, at night, the fan sings us lullabies.