People want the PS3, they want it so bad they’re willing to crawl on their bellies through broken store windows, drink the blood of virgins, swallow live hornets and punch through the stomach of their grandmother to get one. Is there no end to your Madness? You can watch the news in real-time online pop up instance after instance of PS3 related violence. It’s inciting riots and causing people to implode and explode simultaneously. This console launch literally inverts the very laws of thermodynamics and physics themselves.

L. Ron Hubbard must be the marketing genius behind Sony’s strategy, to the point where he will actually fake the death of the console to gain public solace for its plight in being too damned incredibly sexy and unattainable. The PS3 will now feature in its own cross-genre rap group called “Players-Station” featuring “Small E. Squared big dog-poppa chedda’ snack-crisp” It will be featured in the centerfold of playboy showing off its high-powered internal components to the WORLD. It’s shiny surface will stoically reflect the diverted eyes of the entire United Nations Committee as they concern themselves with what this console means to the world.

I know you’re thinking this may be overkill, but you have obviously not gotten on the hype-wagon!!! We are talking Mega-Toyko-3d-Ape Crazy-Xtreme-Volleyball-Fujitsu-nazi FUN! The Japans have given us big big console, so round and shiny. It will only fit on top of your component stereo system because of its bulging technology and rounded curves of PURE POWER. Which is only fitting as it will stare haughtily down at your Receiver, VCR, DVD player Emitting dangerous hissing cat noises from its slot loading ‘Blu-Death-Ray WONDERchozenDRIVE!”

The cell chip has already folded protein, solved DNA, FOUND JIMMY HOFFA, its eight harley-engine powered simultaneous cores will solve 8 of your problems before you turn it on! Once activated the Cell processor will solve 8 further problems every nano-second until the number of solutions literally hit the ceiling of math. Pi cowers in its tiny-numbered hovel as the Cell tracks the future wind shapings of every grain of sand in the sahara for the next 4000 years. If left on for too long the world will become terminally content, robbed of its will to survive from having its problems all solved simultaneously for all-time. The fabric of reality and cognitive capabilities of every god from every religion will bow before its vertex-parallell-processing VOODOO.

Its surface is so reflective its said that it if you cross your eyes when you look upon you will see back in time. Bullets will actually slide off its surface and increase its power. The finish is buffed in by thousands of blind Taotion Monks using the skin of babies farmed from a special factory in Beijing. Each console is rubbed from top to bottom with over 7 million strokes of loving affection from a bonafide CATHOLIC SAINT OF JUSTICE.

You might think some of the things you’ve heard about the PS3 are simply and irrevocably impossible… They ARE and Sony has done it anyway. It plays games from other dimensions. It automatically builds the levels of unfinished games from 1983, it emulates 883 different game consoles. It’s volume goes to 11, and it can beat Battletoads for the NES by ITSELF. Sure you’re telling yourself there aren’t even 883 game consoles in existence but you’re dead wrong, and that shirt looks terrible!

I can’t be troubled to speak of its glory anymore, This is the new messiah, it has won the war on terror, terraformed mars, and its incredibly reasonable price will actually allow you to watch movies that are SO high definition that you will get punched in the face… NO SHIT. So go out and fire a loaded combat shotgun into a nun convention to get to the back of the 4 day line at your local best-buy so you too can get a rain-check voucher to maybe someday touch a demo unit inside a bullet-proof case in 4-6 weeks.

Or you could wait 2 months for better games to come out and easily buy one at the store around the corner without all the fuss… but we’re pretty sure that makes you a FAG.

by Adam “Sony OMG” Aragon