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I tend to agree with people like Joseph Romm. The management of the Big Three doesn’t deserve salvation–which I didn’t make that clear in my original post. What I demand is a second chance for the engineers and line workers.

The poor decision makers presently running GM, Ford and Chrysler need to go–as a part of a bailout or bankruptcy reorganization.

It’s wrong to think of GM only as Hummers and Suburbans:

GM’s heavy-duty hybrid technology would be far more revolutionary than Toyota’s.

The Toyota technology can only be applied to smaller, lighter vehicles–topping out at perhaps the Highlander SUV. Such vehicles are only suited to commuting. In contrast, GM’s technology (developed with BMW and Chrysler) can be applied to huge vehicles–pickups, commercial trucks, and buses.

Why is the GM technology superior? The efficiency gains from hybrid technology are vastly larger in big vehicles. A Prius has only about a 20% gain in operating efficiency, compared to a similarly sized and shaped car. In contrast, the improvement for a full-sized pickup is more like 200-250%.

The Prius, in many instances, is replaceable; bicycles for short trips, mass transit for basic travel. Commute-shmommute; abandoning those cars will give us greater gains than switching to slightly better engines. But those larger vehicles, their tasks are still imperative.

Even if you buy into the environmentally clean car commute bullshit, GM’s approach here is objectively better than anyone else. The Chevy Volt drives its wheels only with electric motors, supplementing the energy stored in a modest battery pack with a gasoline-fired electric generator.

Electric motors produce all their torque right from the start–obviating the need for any sort of energy-sapping transmission system, particularly the ornate sort required when both gas and electric motors are driving the wheels. The small battery pack is sufficient in capacity for the vast majority of trips taken by people with these sorts of cars. The vast majority of energy in vehicle is stored as liquid fuel–that is more weight, space and energy efficient than batteries will ever be. And, since the gas-fired motor is only attached to a generator, it can always operate at its optimal speed using only fixed gearing. The whole package uses each part to its maximal advantage, while being overall simpler than the Prius-hybrid approach. If people are going to continue to commute by car, and live in sprawl, this is the better approach.

Compare these technologies to the bullshit hydrogen fuel-cell cars being touted by Honda. Hydrogen is a total nightmare. It’s vastly more difficult to distribute than liquid fuel or electricity. When it leaks out, it acts as a greenhouse gas. And, the vast majority of hydrogen fuel is made by inefficiently converting fossil fuels–still dumping carbon into the atmosphere. The fuel cells require a tremendous amount of rare metals, the mining of which is a total environmental nightmare. Hydrogen cars, from a net environmental impact, are likely worse than a traditional gasoline-fired small car.

In contrast, the technology in the Volt really is revolutionary–a true net environmental benefit when you consider life of the car from start to finish.

The work done by American assembly workers is as good as any around the world. JD Power’s initial quality survey tells you that. Or the quality of US-made Hondas and Toyotas. US-made cars are objectively better in build quailty to those made in Europe or even most factories in Asia–on par with the best Japanese-manufactured cars, and have been for nearly a decade. You sound like a fool when claiming otherwise. If you seriously believe American’s cannot assemble things, when blessed with a proper management, I suggest not flying anywhere, ever.

I strongly disagree that there can be a healthy post-industrial US economy. A huge contributor to our present woes is the idiotic policy stance that we can somehow transition to a service-based economy, shedding all manufacturing to other nations while living on credit and currency imbalances. Manufacturing jobs allow people willing to work hard to live well–without the burden of years of education, for which many do not have interest, aptitude or access. One in ten jobs in the country is directly related to the auto industry–the sorts of jobs that still provide things like retirement benefits and health care for employees.

The dirty truth is, the migration of manufacturing jobs away from the US has been an environmental, economic and social disaster for the entire globe. Shipping heavy goods around the planet carries a heavy carbon footprint. Allowing imports from countries with lax or non-existant labor and environmental regulations leads to things like the brown cloud of doom choking people throughout Northeast Asia. The state-supported export-based Chinese economy has proven as brittle and unstable as many feared.

I’m not opposed to industrialization around the globe. Just, more of this growth in production needs to be for domestic consumption–where the people assembling can afford and purchase that which they are making. India took this path. China didn’t. Compare the states of their economies today.

We’ve had no industrial policy in this country for decades. Should we be really surprised that the auto industry is a total fiasco? So, yes. It’s time for the hand of government to enter into this sector of the economy–promoting manufacturing in the US through good policy. Policy like enforcing the environmental and labor standards in existing trade agreements. Policy like demanding the auto industry prepare for a post-carbon world. Policy that promotes and shares innovative technologies to US manufacturers. Part of this, I still believe, should be a helping hand to those who have done right by all of us–the engineers and line workers–right now when they need it most.

The iPhone crashes. A lot.

Calls drop all the time. Safari, the Apple web browser, crashes continually. Woe on you if you navigate a partially-loaded page (fed up with the abysmally slow AT&T network). The mail app creaks when opening, often leaving you with a blank white unresponsive screen. The SMS program occasionally refuses to open.

Owning an iPhone–even the second-generation iPhone–is much like fighting through Internet Explorer 5 or Netscape 3.0 on Windows ‘95. When it works, you get a clear sense that this is the new way of doing things. Through the grime of incompetent implementation can be seen glances of what could, and likely will, be.

But holy shit, man. For the first time in a decade, I have to periodically shutdown and reboot a computing device in order to keep it working. What?! This is the era of protected memory spaces, of preemptive multitasking, of garbage collecting programming languages. The rats nest of memory leaks, of shuddering freezes and race conditions underlying the gloss, is totally inexcusable. How come nobody talks about this?

Apple justifies their aggressive control of their products–refusing to allow third party hardware manufacturers, third-party web, mail or SMS apps on the iPhone–by claiming this control makes sure things “just work.” Apple, things aren’t just working.

I can’t say I regret my purchase. The iPhone–and particularly Safari–have changed how I interact with the Internet and organize myself. That browser is incredible. But I’d suggest people take a long and hard look at Google’s android platform-based phones. Not everyone enjoys reliving the Windows ‘95 era.

Good thing I didn’t try posting this from my iPhone–gotta go reboot the thing again.

Blood, guns, killing, yawn. So many video games pile on this heap, and usually, we’re better off replaying the old greats–Half-Life 2, Far Cry, Call of Duty 4, even Goldeneye. You’re putting me in a first-person view and telling me this is worth another $60? Get out. My broke ass is off to the bargain bin to pick up a better, older game instead.

Yet I’m willing to concede that two shooters break out into the top tier this season–though both require that you have friends. Worry not, loner Sloggers! These are worth the social anxiety.

Gears of War 2 (Xbox 360) isn’t an obvious innovator. I got more than a few angry texts from Jonah after he cleared through the game’s default campaign and immediately sold his copy in frustration. “It’s forgettable,” he repeatedly complained. And he’s right.

Just like last time, the focus here is on duck-and-cover moves (and it’s still the best game out there with this mechanic). You hide behind barriers and work with a squad to flank enemies, winning as much with firepower as with position. But contrary to the hype machine that built this Gears as a more epic, varied campaign, these firefights are often more straightforward than last time. Many of the maps don’t encourage flanking, so you instead run in a straight line, and in multiple missions where you fight from a moving car, you’re forced to sit still and mindlessly hold your trigger down. There’s little three-dimensional sense to most of the combat, as you’re instead holding back lines of enemies from a distance (even when doing co-op with one friend).

Worse, cinema scenes stretch on while mining the usual action-movie cliches–loss of family, questionable orders from government, surprise deaths, “mature” cussing–with neither a sense of humor nor an attempt at believable humanity. Are we supposed to laugh? Should we invest in these characters? Neither extreme gets consistent treatment, and while plot’s never the make-or-break point in a shoot-’em-up, the endless, worthless cinema scenes don’t help the “forgettable” accusation we’re levying.

So, uh, why the recommendation? Take this sucker online. The first title’s multiplayer was an afterthought, but here, the battle modes are incredibly varied, and the gameplay is tuned to perfection. A few creative twists on capture the flag round out much of this mode, and the competitive stuff finally feels like what the game always aspired to be–a virtual paintball war. But what has gotten most people excited is the “Horde” mode. In this, your five-man team picks out positions in a big level, then battles an onslaught of computer-controlled baddies that grows tougher with every “wave.” This is what the campaign mode should’ve been–an increase in teammates, not in cinema scenes, and level design that accounts for the team size. This is what feels epic. This is what’s memorable. Way to sell your copy, Jonah.

But why wait for the next eventual Gears to get it right? Left 4 Dead (Xbox 360, PC) is already a lengthy co-op game obsessed with that “Horde” mechanic, and it’s edging toward game of the year status as a result. (Reasons why are after the jump.)

(demo out today, full release coming 11/17)

Bonus points already–no plot! Instead, you’re thrown into one of four stereotypical zombie-movie scenarios (an abandoned town, the wilderness, etc). After watching an intro video, your foursome is told to run to a safety point, fending off “infected” along the way. These are 28 Days Later zombies, by the way. They run, they scream, and they usually roll in packs of at least 20.

L4D is loaded with memorable moments, but the most impressive come when 30 or 40 zombies run at your crew, their arms flailing, their cries growing in the distance. No shooting game has delivered this level of mass enemy terror since Doom, and while newer games since have tried copying the original, L4D’s the first to outdo it in terms of sensation. The atmospheric lighting mixed with spaces of utter darkness; the randomization of where a zombie crowd will appear every time you play; the speed and numbers; the way these crazies’ arms and legs and faces contort at will in a swarm; the best art direction yet in a Valve game; the terrifying triggers of new swarms, like when you set off a car alarm and know what’s coming. A good game will have you yell “oh, shit” when such challenge approaches; a great game can repeat that sensation so many times, it replays in your dark-pink eyelids.

And because of the way enemies approach–in huge numbers, but weak individually–the co-op aspect really works. The way I see it, this is a rare feeling, because most “co-op” games run in parallel–your friends are having solo experiences next to each other with occasional, token gestures. Ho hum. But here, the experience is perpendicular. You need four guns working these weak masses down. You need a point man on your six to keep an eye out for the next randomly generated wave. You need help when super-zombies pop up in the crowd and render a player useless for a few seconds. You need cover when you have to reload or apply a bandage to yourself in the middle of a firefight, else you die.

Yet none of these moments feels forced or tacked-on; they’re indispensable because of L4D’s panic, and the game makes it easy to find teammates in the crowd by color-coding them. When your friend shouts that he’s being choked by a Smoker, you can see his glowing outline, even if he’s far away; this not only makes it easier to find the guy but also encourages him to shout for your help.

Getting everyone into the act is the most crucial part, and it’s not just the atmosphere that nails it; L4D is perhaps most astounding at how it brings new people into the fold. Inexperienced teams will have their difficulty auto-adjusted, and being able to save each other’s hides makes it less intimidating for stragglers to keep up. In all my playtests so far, the newcomers have probably been the most stricken by L4D. (Even ol’ Jon Golob came along for a test, having never played a computer FPS before, and he left the session babbling like a fool, craving more.)

Versus mode is the same as single-player, only the humans’ opponents control super-zombies. They die easily, and they have to wait forever to come back to life, but they can see through walls and try to catch the humans off-guard. Sneak behind and pick off a straggler? Find a hidden cache of dozens of normal zombies and wait for an assault? Wait for a Boomer to barf, thus blurring everyone’s eyes, and then ambush? Get all four super-zombies together for an Abbey Road-style walk? It’s a weird combat mode, but leave it to the folks behind Team Fortress 2 to make this versus mode stand out in a crowded market.

L4D has only four campaigns, each split into five chunks. That’s not long, so Valve expects players to replay each campaign again and again, upping the difficulty with every retry and being continually surprised by the game’s “Director,” an algorithmic system that randomly creates enemies and encounters every session.

This approach originally seemed funky, but Gears 2’s “Horde” mode is even more limited, asking players to bunk down in a particular map and master it through dozens of enemy waves. And people are eating that up. Bellevue’s Valve Software outdoes Gears 2 by creating pacing and momentum with their worlds–the abandoned city, the expanse of non-linear farmland, the bloodied airport. Loaded with bottlenecks, wide-open spaces, time-sensitive stakeouts, and hidden nooks that contain either ammo or death, these worlds are worth studying and memorizing for future run-throughs. More new campaigns may come in the future, as Valve’s been known to give out free updates and allow user-made mods (Counter Strike, Team Fortress 2).

The game is perfectly playable by yourself or with just one friend (though split-screen on a single Xbox 360 is a bastard to get used to). AI teammates are serviceable enough, helping you out and staying alive. But the computer can be boneheaded at the worst times, and that means the full game is nothing without a four-deep crew. No crew? No “game of the year.” But even with strangers, L4D encourages you to make new friends in all of the right ways; as long as you can get online with a headset, you’ll be terrified.

General Motors will not see 2009 without a government bailout. What used to be the centerpiece of the American economy has a decent chance of not seeing Obama’s inauguration.

If this should happen, it would be an atom bomb dropping on the American middle class. It might be hard to see from here (or maybe not), but GM and the auto industry are among the few things that have worked in the US private sector, from a social and economic point of view. You know the deal. Work hard, turn in your hours, and you’ll be rewarded with the American dream: home, retirement, some vacations, and so on. Be part of the great, producing company, and all of this is yours.

On the other hand, the service sector that has come to dominate the US economy is most notable for producing shitty, disposable jobs that are considered a stepping stone to something better. So what future will we favor in these tough times–becoming underappreciated, union-less armies selling outsourced, imported goods? Or becoming a well paid worker that actually makes things?

And here’s what might be most shocking–despite being saddled with the costs and responsibilities of being the largest private pension and health insurance provider in the world, has made clever and key investments that deserve fulfillment. Yes, I’m talking about an American car-maker; hear me out.

Nevermind the now-defunct EV-1–the first modern mass-produced electric car. GM’s heavy-duty hybrid technology would be far more revolutionary than Toyota’s. Likewise, the technology in a Chevy Volt does a far better job of playing to the strengths of electric and gas motors than any competing hybrid. For more technical details, you should hop over to DearScience.org for a technical explanation.

GM has great ideas, their manufacturing quality is on par with the Japanese manufacturers, they have beloved small cars they’ve started pumping.

Early on in this crisis, we decided that AIG–an insurance company that made horrifyingly bad decisions–was worthy of rescue. We’re now up to $150 billion in a growing pit of despair attempting to save a company that did little to create or maintain a middle class. On the other hand, the same sum invested in American industry as loans would have a clear, immediate and profound effect on the economy–putting money into the pockets of line workers, new products on the global market that are competitive and even potentially make our society more energy efficient.

The alternative frightens me. If we allow GM and the auto industry to fail, it’s unclear what, if anything, would replace the key role it played in our economy. I cannot fathom how to renew an industrial middle class without the auto companies–and the vast manufacturing networks supported by them.

I’m inundated in video games—most of the big games for this fall, in fact. Some people would call this Christmas. I’m a little less excited (though, uh, this is totally Christmas).

Big budgets and too many hands in the pot often have an inverse effect in the games world—just look at this year’s Snore Spore. Did you know the game was originally gonna be science-crazy, and then a “cute” movement sprung up at the dev, and they proceeded to dumb the game down? Ugh.

Thankfully, none of this season’s hyped releases have disappointed the way Spore did. But that’s like saying none of them took a dump in my ear. Let’s get back on gaming track by looking at the PlayStation 3 care package I received earlier this week. Jump with me for that console’s big Christmas exclusives: LittleBigPlanet, Motorstorm 2, and Resistance 2.

MOTORSTORM: PACIFIC RIFT (PS3)

Hop into jacked-up off-road vehicles—ATVs, dirtbikes, monster trucks, five others—and tear through 16 massive outdoor racetracks. Why bother? Because this is my dream game come to life: a 3D Super Off-Road. As a kid, I played the hell outta that arcade game, and Motorstorm: PR isn’t a copy, but it evokes the same childhood sensations: muddy, slippy, fast, and a little ridiculous.

Most “extreme” racers fool you with big jumps. Typically, you’ll get a lot of air, and that’ll look cool, but you’ll land on the same, boring racetracks with a few mud effects.

Motorstorm: PR is brilliant in its inaccessibility. Open-world terrain means you won’t find demarcated race tracks but rather a lot of twisty paths mixed together. The cars aren’t chained to the ground like in most games, which means you’ll drift too much, get unexpected air, and suffer more than a few high-speed crashes. No two rides feel alike, and with eight types, that’s saying something.

Add to that a real sense of speed and a variety of creative racetracks, and you’ve got impact that sticks for longer than a rental—unlike the other big arcade racer of the season, Pure, whose gorgeous looks and big air, while well done, didn’t save its otherwise average play and tiresome trick system.

M:PR’s not a perfect game, certainly. The default camera angle blows and can’t be moved around. Computer racers speed up or slow down to stay with you, which is great for newcomers but annoying when you’ve mastered the game. Crashes look pedestrian, which is weird for a crash-heavy racer that otherwise runs beautifully. And my online tests have seen opponents get through courses so quickly, I wonder if they’re legit—or if I’m just awful. But beyond those nitpicks, I’m a big fan here. This is the only PS3-exclusive (other than some of the $10 online games) that has thrilled me.

LITTLEBIGPLANET (PS3)

Which brings us to the mega-hyped PS3 exclusive for this holiday, now stripped of all things offensive. Er, can’t imagine for long. This game banks itself on making and sharing levels to play, and that probably means Sony spends half of a given day deleting penis- and terrorism-themed worlds… but that’s their concern.

Mine is figuring out what the huge deal is here. I mean, I get that LBP is all kinds of likeable. The design is obliteratingly cute, and its sewing-and-cutouts style, mixed with weighty physics, makes the game look like a child’s hand-puppet play come to life. And there are tons of dorky, cute moments, like when gopher-heads pop out of the ground and launch your little character toward a meerkat pole-dance party (it’s not as offensive as it sounds, swear).

And I’m certainly taken by the creation system. The learning curve’s gentle; options are robust; controller isn’t a pain to use (though a mouse would help). Gamers are already proving the system’s worth by uploading a crap-ton of interesting levels. If you have a nerdy, creative child, do not hesitate to choose this over any Lego/High School Musical/Shrek game, obviously.

But ultimately, the play is side-scrolling stuff I’ve played for so long: run and jump to an end-point. What surprises me is that LBP’s control isn’t comfortable. For starters, running around happens with three layers of depth. Switching layers happens automatically most of the time, but when it doesn’t, ughgggh, and most layer-puzzles aren’t creative–they’re OCD fodder that force you to jump around a particular spot or hug up against hard-to-see walls. And jumps are floaty and wimpy, which I still haven’t gotten used to.

Shame that the level creator tools and beautiful design are attached to an iffy control core. But I’ve still had fun with both online levels and pre-made ones, and playing multiplayer with friends has been fun—especially when levels are tailored to competition, where everyone’s scrambling through the physics-heavy worlds to gather points and block each other out—so I’m okay calling this a PS3 must-have. Doesn’t make me comfortable calling it a system-seller, though.

RESISTANCE 2 (PS3)

Watered-down Halo. There are a few interesting guns, but the single-player is a linear bore, and multiplayer doesn’t improve on Halo or Call of Duty in the least—which means the touted 60-player online mode doesn’t feel epic at all. Resistance 2 looks and sounds like a big-budget game, but sadly, it plays like one, too—safe, tried-and-true, meh.

I can’t sleep.

I just crawled out of bed and sat down at my kitchen table, giving my brain an attempt at accepting all that has happened tonight.

The results for the Washington State races seem almost unbelievably good–Tim Eyman destine for definitive defeat, transit for a definitive victory along with death with dignity, the reelection of our democratic governor and the potential victory of Darcy Burner.

And then, there is Obama. It doesn’t seem possible. We live in a country willing and able to reelect George W Bush a mere four years ago, to probably pass a punitive and vicious discriminatory State Constitutional amendment on this very evening. And yet, Obama. With a landslide.

And it’s all over the country. As I write this, there is a distinct chance that the Democrats will achieve a 60 person super majority in the Senate and pick up a larger than expected number of seats in the House.

We asked the country, and received “yes” as an answer this time.

On my kitchen table are the week’s New York Times–surrounding me with the pre-election moment.

A few scattered headlines:

“Steep Decline in October Auto Sales Leaves No Seller Immune”

“New Terrain For Arbiters Of a Bailout”

“Afghan Officials Aided an Attack on U.S. Soldiers”

“U.S. Rejects G.M.’s Call For Help In a Merger”

“Debt Links to Huge Buyouts Is Tightening the Economic Vise”

“Next President Will Face Test On Detainees”

“Fed Adds $21 Billion To Loans For A.I.G”

“New Anxiety Grips Russia’s Economy”

“Economy Shrinks With Consumers Leading the Way”

“Mortgage Plan May Aid Many And Irk Others”

“Specter of Deflation Lurks As Global Demand Drops”

“A Rescue Hindered By Politics”

After eight–perhaps twelve–years of terrifying, out-of-control skidding it finally feels as though our collective feet have found purchase. We’ve finally stopped our plummet, or at least started to stop our decline, far closer to the edge of a deep abyss than any of us would like. Or so I hope.

Trudging back up is going to make the next four years (and probably many more) as difficult as anything known to the overwhelming majority of us. And have no more illusions. It won’t be the Chinese, the Russians, the EU. We must be in the lead of the difficult rise as much as we were the leaders of the swift and easy fall.

McCain, and particularly Palin, were selling the notion that these problems weren’t real, that the real problem is we aren’t belligerent and profligate enough, that all we need to do was double down. Obama means we’re finally ready to about face, and start grappling with the long-neglected reality of our situation.

So, as I sit anxiously awake at four AM, all these thoughts–and a few others, of the sweet feeling of victory, of the vanquishing of so much hatred and fear, of relief of the end of procrastination–swirl through my mind. Much coalesces to a sharp point. I’d work for the Obama administration, grinding my life against what we collectively face.

And I suspect I am not the only one.

A few weeks ago, I had intended to track key metrics in the credit markets as a sadistic means of removing all joy from the world. Then I came to my senses. Calculated Risk beat me to it anyways, with a daily tracker. According to those numbers, while many things have improved in the credit markets since the bailout went into effect–from all-time historical highs to merely untenable highs–we’re nowhere close to normal.

The bailout plan, first proposed by Treasury Secretary and former Goldman Sachs banker Henry Paulson, was intended to loosen up these markets, returning them closer to normal. Thus far, the bailout measures have added about a trillion dollars to the national debt and left the credit markets improved, but still non-functional. And, it appears as if most of those credit improvements were due to direct governmental intervention, rather than a true improvement in the markets.

The two models of the bailout can be exemplified by the bailouts of Bear Stearns and AIG.

For Bear Stearns, the government bought up their impossible-to-value toxic debt. No returns on that investment yet:

The Federal Reserve reduced the estimated value of the Bear Stearns Cos. assets it took on in June by $2.7 billion, or 9.2 percent, as the worsening credit crisis forced more markdowns on mortgage-backed debt.

And with AIG, the taxpayers took control of the company in return for desperately needed cash to keep the enterprise running. Initially, we provided $85 billion for a controlling share of AIG, followed by an additional $35 billion. How did that work out? The heads of AIG apparently lied about just how ugly the situation was and is. The $120 billion or so of taxpayer dollars we lent to them is already gone, with the company still teetering on failure. Take it away, NYT:

The American International Group is rapidly running through $123 billion in emergency lending provided by the Federal Reserve, raising questions about how a company claiming to be solvent in September could have developed such a big hole by October. Some analysts say at least part of the shortfall must have been there all along, hidden by irregular accounting.

“You don’t just suddenly lose $120 billion overnight,” said Donn Vickrey of Gradient Analytics, an independent securities research firm in Scottsdale, Ariz.

The revelations that things were worse at AIG than expected led to the collapse of several insurance company stocks today, with many losing a quarter to a half of their total value.

How bad are the credit markets? Well, investors in the world’s largest–and first–Money Market fund still cannot get their money back, over a month after it was frozen. The fund lost a tremendous amount of assets after Lehman Brothers collapsed. It gets worse. A second fund managed by the same company, that was supposed to only invest in government debt, also has been frozen–perhaps evidence the Reserve Fund company, in an attempt to hide their losses in their primary fund, took and lost money from investors in the government fund.

At least 400,000 people, and perhaps as many as a million, can’t get access to their savings, a problem that has quietly persisted in spite of widely publicized federal efforts to restore confidence in money-fund investments….

Initially, the company simply announced that it would delay redemptions from the Primary Fund for up to seven days, as allowed by law. Customers were somewhat reassured, but anyone trying to get additional information was met with busy phone lines and unanswered e-mail.

The news occasionally posted on the fund’s Web site got steadily worse. On Sept. 18, investors in a host of other Reserve money funds learned that their money would be tied up for as long as a week; that delay later became open-ended. On Sept. 19, the fund delayed redemptions from both the Primary Fund and the US Government Fund indefinitely.

Why would anyone entrust their money to a system where the lies and deceit are still being uncovered?

In the meantime, enter Fed Chairman Ben Bernanke–former economics professor and expert on the Great Depression.

His prescription: The government should spend money, even if it means running up even more debt. Spend on everything, including another round of checks. Enough with trying to save the financial system. If the credit markets are beyond short-term salvation, it’s time to try to save the citizens of the country. You know, the Democratic plan, costing a (now paltry-seeming) $300 billion.

And the man he endorsed to spend the money, as his choice for the next president? Obama.

To summarize, in the Golob-scale-of-economist-panic, after a brief bit of optimism in the shadow of the trillion dollar Hail Mary pass to save the financial markets, and its subsequent failure to help enough, we’re at six beakers by now:

You don’t have to take my word for it. Let the San Francisco Fed president Janet Yellen’s gloom be your confirmation.

And now some Muppets to make things feel better:

Why do I keep going back to the Gameworks downtown? The place is a dead zone. The arcade games are ancient–most so old, their screens are burnt in. The staff seems to outnumber patrons on a given night. All but one of the bar areas are typically roped off, making the place feel even creepier.

I like Gameworks’ Thursday night special–pay $10, get all-you-can-play access from 10 p.m. on–but the rest of the week gets nothing. Per-game prices have dropped, but mostly for older games that you can play on an Xbox by now. I haven’t noticed any drink specials. And about two months ago, a Gameworks room was cleared out to make a dining hall with an eye toward (relative) elegance and a sign asking for companies to rent the space for their next major luncheon. Trouble is, that fancy room is pushed up against the shoot-basketballs kiosks. Who are you targeting, the PR department for Gymboree?

But I have reason to return, beyond my stupid arcade nostalgia: I’m still rolling with $60-ish in credit on their proprietary swipe-cards. Fricking drunken birthday party… So I stopped by last night on my way back home and noticed, again, the place looked barren. But the dozen people last night weren’t spread thinly over the place’s zillions of square feet. They weren’t spazzing on the DDR machines. They had piled upon a Street Fighter 4 cabinet.

Sadly, this photo is not of Seattle’s Gameworks

Big deal? The new game’s Japan-only right now… and is ridiculously fun. I had been planning a pilgrimage to Tacoma to play SF4 with friends, as some bowling alley owner down there had imported the game a few months ago (just in time for PAX), but scratch that.

Street Fighter has been redone in 3D to look like a living cartoon, and the mix of 3D models and paint-brush effects is striking. More importantly, SF4 takes out the clutter of the zillions of Street Fighter clones, returning to the series’ simpler fightin’ glory. Tighter pacing; fewer moves; rebalanced characters; blah blah. The important thing was the feeling: its gravity, speed, and whallop of hits had a believably cartoony quality that was welcoming and instantly fun.

But the best part was the line. Players old and new to this version rapped about tweaks to moves, SF4 changes they liked, the way they were gonna get each other next round, and on and on. Mixed into that conversation was old-school arcade admiration; whether a guy was racking up a seven-win streak or finally getting his after a newbie’s ridiculous comeback, I couldn’t help but get into the game by proxy as this scraggly gang of 20-somethings cheered each other on. This is how Street Fighter 4 should be consumed; don’t wait for the 2009 Xbox version.

I should also mention Rambo. There’s a new Rambo gun game from Sega at Gameworks, and it puts you in charge of an oversized machine gun with nearly endless ammo that rattles like a bastard. Clips from the original movies pop up between hundred-man murder sprees for good measure–and just like the movies, somehow Rambo barely ever gets shot. America!

Those were the only new machines I saw in my full venue run-through, sadly. But it’s a good start–those two serve up more fun than a lot of stuff around Pacific Place. Now, can we get more new cabinets, Gameworks? Or at least some drink specials?

While trying out Rock Band 2, I’ve enjoyed not having to review it. It’s the same basic concept as Rock Band 1, which was already Guitar Hero on steroids–two people on fake guitar/bass, one on a USB microphone, and one on a four-pad drum kit play along to popular rock songs from the ’60s to today. Play songs to unlock more songs, along with trinkets for your virtual egotists.

There are improvements, and I’ll get to those, but by nature, RB2 is decidedly similar. New songs, same play. So I’ve paid more attention to the way people digest it.

Perhaps you have a posse who loves the game, and your dedicated foursome racks up RB scores by memorizing complicated song passages. That’s a different review. My experience has been mostly with people who stumble upon the game—showing up at the wee hours with a buzz, seeing plastic instruments strewn about, and figuring they may as well give ‘em a shot.

For these players, it’s a rush to the drum set, which plays 1:1 with the music. You are banging along to a real beat; even if it’s on a plastic kit, it’s still the most successful portion of the “be a rocker” experience. Then somebody grabs the microphone—they’re drunk, they wanna sing along with the Go-Gos or Journey. Whatever. The mic picks up your pitch, but not your words, so you can mumble-hum your way through songs. The plastic guitars get picked last, which control the same as they did in 2005—so they still don’t control like real guitars. With five buttons, rather than a real guitar’s endless array of notes and chords, the play becomes percussive (though certainly less intimidating for a party’s sake).

In a perfect session, everybody’s taking turns and trying it all. It’s not typical. Somebody doesn’t want to sing. Sometimes, they’re insecure. Most of the time, they’ve run out of songs they’re comfortable singing–this is not a karaoke kind of selection, which means less Neil Diamond, more Sonic Youth and Grateful Dead. Casual singers have been underwhelmed after burning through the game’s obvious hits.

Meanwhile, other people hate playing the fake guitars–either the feeling of them or the whole “press a button, then strum” mechanic. Even with the new, welcome no-fail mode, and even with intoxication in the mix, some people do not budge in the face of RB’s party potential.

On the other hand, when you have a group that’s on a roll, the play turns mechanical. Not so much laughing at bad singers and people faux-strutting with their stupid guitars. Instead, everyone stares at the screen to keep up with constant note patterns. You shouldn’t pay $190 for four people to gang up and ignore each other–why not make interaction more inherent with this new iteration?

I did find the sweet spot for some of my play. With the right mix of experts and novices, we laughed it up, made fun of each other, got the hang of the fake-rock system, and found ways to interact even when the game didn’t make that inherent. The song selection is pretty broad, balancing its duds with party-perfect fare (and you can borrow someone else’s RB1 disc and, for a $5 fee, pump those songs into the new game, which doubles the game for newcomers). RB2 has enough tweaks, if not massive changes, to make this near-essential for anybody who already blew cash on the old instruments last time—slicker interface, 84 new songs, new online modes. Hell, what else are you going to do with those old instruments?

But the full instrument+game pack is $190, as is the same pack from Guitar Hero World Tour, seeing release in a week or so. People will soon nitpick over which fake band setup is better—GHWT has slightly better drums and a make-your-own-song studio, while RB2’s new wireless gear is quite solid, and its song selection is larger (though before dropping cash, hit Wikipedia to compare the games’ song lists). Flip a coin if you’re concerned about the slight differences; I’m more interested in when the virtual-rock bell curve will start dipping. With so few new features here—and nothing to compel players to interact with each other in-game—I’m guessing sooner than later.

Remember Tetrisphere? They called it 3D Tetris, because the word “Tetris” will sell anything, but this N64 game played more like a jigsaw puzzle on a sphere. Instead of fitting every piece together perfectly, you connected like-shaped pieces to make them vanish, eventually clearing off the game board.

I’m a puzzle-game freak, so I enjoyed it, but like most Tetris retreads, it never approached the original in mass popularity. The biggest reason I lost interest was that it didn’t make the most of its 3D aspects. You played on top of a sphere, but control was limited to a 2D plane.

I can’t help but think of Tetrisphere when I find myself enjoying Cubello, the second in Nintendo’s new Art Style series on the Wii. A few weeks ago, this downloadable series debuted with a re-release of an obscure Japanese game, but it looks like the series will also host new, experimental titles like this one.

The screen displays a tower of colored cubes, and you’re told to clear them all out. Instead of knocking them down a la  Boom Blox, you aim with the Wii remote and shoot colors at the stack to create four-of-a-kind chunks, which then vanish.

The catch, and what distinguishes this from other “match-the-color” puzzle games that have been around for decades, is that this tower rotates in 3D. What’s more, you cannot push a joystick to move the tower around; instead, your shots make the tower spin.

At the beginning, this spin-and-wait is an enjoyable sensation as you wait for the next shot to show itself in the busy playfield. Doesn’t hurt that aiming shots with the Wii pointer is more precise than should probably be expected. As the game gets harder, you’re not just aiming to clear the stack; you’re also aiming to line up your next shot as quickly as possible. It’s a welcome, er, twist.

The rotational effect, and how it smartly blends into the basic experience, reminds me of why Tetrisphere seemed so cool in the mid-90s. This time, there’s an engaging 3D puzzle experience embedded in the effect, as maneuvering through a 3D tower and lining up perfect shots–and eventually combos–is a rare breath of new in an ancient genre.

Perhaps the game’s most compelling fact is that Nintendo doesn’t ease players into Cubello. The music and sounds are grating, future-synth stuff, complete with a creepy robo-voice announcing the action. The challenge ramps up immediately after a brief tutorial. And the bombardment of visual elements can be confusing even after learning the game’s rules. Compared to Nintendo’s recent roster of safe, Mario-loaded games, Cubello feels decidedly experimental. Like an indie garage game.

And at the price of $6, Nintendo can afford to put out bizarre, experimental titles. It probably costs them peanuts to have a small team develop something like Cubello; they don’t have to pay for advertising or publishing, either. Just toss it up on Wii Ware, price it at $6, and see if lightning strikes.

It may not strike with this game, genius as its concept is. There’s no two-player mode, which Cubello’s begging for; imagine a battle mode where you attack your opponent by freezing his tower-spin for a few seconds. Brutal. Also, like Snood, you can get stuck at a puzzle’s end with garbage colors that no longer have a match since you’ve cleared the board. This wouldn’t be so bad if the game didn’t tend to reduce its timer like crazy when you reach this point. It feels cheap.

Nintendo could fix these issues with a patch. They could even release a retail version, complete with extra modes and an option to turn off the robo-voice (oh, Jesus, please do this). But even if not, Nintendo’s on to something with these Art Style games. Keep giving your developers an outlet to try crazy shit. I’d much rather pay for eight of these, gems and bombs alike, than another Metroid game.