Nah, it's not one of those "Tragic Blog" entries in which the author feels compelled to make a public apology rather than just apologizing directly to whomever he or she has wronged. It is, in fact, a mini-review of a weird video game that I recently discovered.

The game is called I'm Sorry!. At first, the title mystified me, as did the gameplay. You play a macrocephalic Japanese man in business attire, running around picking up gold bars while trying to avoid what I assumed were Yakuza, wrestlers, hookers, Michael Jackson and the ever-popular Rolling Barrel. You can jump over them, or punch them with your Enormous Fist Of Doom.

If you don't punch or avoid them, they humiliate you in various ways. The "Yakuza" strips down to a black bra and panties, and whips you while you (now wearing a diaper) cry like a baby. Michael Jackson apparently takes you roughly from behind. And so on.

Once you've collected all the gold bars, you return to a building at the top of the screen, and do the Fan Dance Of Victory.

If you fear for your life, you can always return to your home base before you've collected all the gold, and stash your loot — but if you get killed, you still have to do the entire level over again.

There are other hazards, too. Apparently, you're such an important person that you've had statues built of yourself — and they're just as avaricious as you; your current "earnings" are contained in a balloon that floats above your head, and if it grazes one of these statues, they spring to life and attempt to kill you and take your gold. Fire hydrants spew fire in this game, too.

A quick visit to the Killer List of Videogames put the entire game into perspective. Apparently, it's political satire, which is something you just never see with American videogames. "Sorry" is a pun on sori, the Japanese word for "prime minister". The enormous-headed player is Kakuei Tanaka, a corrupt former Prime Minister of Japan who was fond of taking bribes. The "Yakuza" is actually comedian and TV host Tamori. The black athlete is Carl Lewis, the white athlete is Giant Baba, founder of All Japan Pro Wrestling, and "Michael Jackson" is in fact Michael Jackson.

Still no idea who the hooker is supposed to be, but at one point I could have sworn that her lips detached from her face, grew to enormous size, and flew across the level to kill me. But I might have been hallucinating; I wasn't able to reproduce it for a screen shot.

Everything in this blog may be wrong.

(Well, fun with The GIMP, at any rate.)

I actually placed third in a Fark Photoshop contest yesterday. So, in celebration thereof, I've created a page to display all of my previous contest entries.

The two towards the bottom of the page (Road Runner and Guy Getting Sucked Into Escalator) were especially fun to do, because in addition to adding elements to them, I also excised entire characters, reconstructing the backgrounds behind them bit by bit, and it got me thinking. There's a whole subindustry in the movie business for people who retouch movies frame by frame, for things like wire removal or cleaning up older movies for release on DVD. I'm just anal-retentive enough to be able to do that for a living. I wonder how well it pays?

Friday, on the way home from work, some Tampa Bay Buccaneers fan had called in to one of the sports radio shows, complaining about the fact that Publix supermarkets were selling Philadelphia Eagles balloons. Apparently, Bucs fans had also been incensed that the week previously, they'd sold cakes decorated with the 49ers logo. The show's host appeared to be in agreement with the caller's indignation, but I couldn't tell if it was genuine or if he was just egging the guy on.

Anyway, to hear this guy rant, Publix was committing a horrendous offense against the sensibilities of the community. He was calling for a boycott of Publix until they issued an apology for daring to sell merchandise pertaining to other football teams. The few bucks they might make on such items, he raged, wouldn't even begin to make up for the badwill generated by such a decision.

Wow. And I thought people in the SCA got too worked up over a mere game. It's not like Publix was selling Nazi flags, or KKKakes. Sheesh.

But even that wasn't as bad as a Tampa restaurateur (and Bucs fan) whose storefront was defaced with anti-Eagles graffiti as retribution for his heinous crime of selling Philly cheese steak sandwiches.

And a brief comment on the game: Warren Sapp ought to change his Web site's name from QBKilla.com to QBSlappa.com — because the one time he actually managed to reach Donovan McNabb, all he did was slap him on the hip. Sapp's old 'n' busted now. Simeon Rice has over twice as many sacks as he does this year; Sapp isn't even in the top five. In fact, Rice outsacked Sapp by nearly two to one last year, too; I don't see why people (especially NFL cameramen) continue to make such a fuss over Sapp.

Addendum: Today's Rockwood Comic is especially pertinent and amusing.

This North Korean propaganda poster is pretty funny. I especially like the long, talon-like claws of the "U.S. imperialist" soldier.

I wonder how long it'll be before these start showing up on eBay?

And now, just to be a complete and utter bastard,