I have been playing GTA IV for a couple of weeks now, and I must concur with most of the critics: not only is it the best of the Grand Theft Auto franchise, but it could possibly be the best game of all time. Only continued playing will decide for me whether or not it is better than the excellent Tom Clancy Splinter Cell series, all of which are very near and dear to my heart.

I’m not going to bore the shit out of all of you with a review. If you want to know more about the intricacies of the game, there are a ton of websites out there that can help you, written by people who are vastly more knowledgeable on the subject than I. The voice acting is terrific, the motion capture and physics engine are sublime, the sandbox is vast, the game itself has been refined and perfected over the past versions, and the satirical social commentary is dead on. Enough said.

However, as good as it is, many rail against GTA IV and its maker Rockstar Games for the blatant violence and sexuality that has always been associated with the title. But I say take your Puritan values and shove them deep into your anal cavity. The world needs GTA IV, if only to keep the tempers of people such as myself at bay. Where else can you purposely chase down a person who has bumped into you on the street and put a bullet in his head? And, after having gained the attention of the local authorities, highjack a candy apple red convertible and go screaming down the streets until you lose control and smash into a hot dog stand, watching as you fly through the windshield as the proprietor and his cart explode in a huge ball of fire. As you skid across the concrete, your own blood spraying, you see the cops encroaching, so you pick yourself up and open fire, taking down like three of the fat little fuckers as you race to a nearby cab, punch the cabbie right in his glass fucking chin and haul his dumb ass out, screaming at him to stay the fuck down, and you screech off with the passenger still inside; she’s some uptight bitch just wailing and wailing like a nutty banshee and you don’t know what’s driving you crazier, her big mouth or the cop sirens and the helicopter chopping overhead, so you stop the car only for a moment to give her the chance to escape, and then, as she frees herself and runs down the street with her waving arms in the air and crying for help, you back the cab over her just for the fuck of it. Of course, this little pleasure only gives the pigs a chance to catch up with you, and they smash their cruisers right into the cab without a second thought, making demands over loudspeakers for you to get the fuck out of the car NOW NOW NOW, and you’re all like, yeah, right, asshole. Not in this life! You’re gonna have to KILL ME YOU FUCKING PIGS! So you put the cab in gear and crash your way out of the poor-ass excuse for a blockade that the police made around you and quickly as you can program the GPS to get you to an auto-shop, and quick. The traffic is heavy, but seeing as the coppers are much less willing than you are to drive at top speed down the sidewalk while helpless, innocent victims fly like squashed melons in your wake, you can kind of be thankful for it. You reach the body shop, the garage door comes down, you pull out a moment later with a gleaming, new, blue sedan, and the sun is shining, and the world is normal, and the cops are gone, and the only sign of your rampage is the distant sirens of the ambulance dealing with the bodies you left in your wake.

All of that action, without even starting a mission. Now tell me honestly that the thought of getting away with something like this has never occurred to you.

I can’t wait to beat a hooker to death with my bare hands. Eh, maybe tomorrow, after I take my girlfriend out for a round of darts at one of the local bars.

So, yes, it’s a pretty cool game. I’m enjoying it.