At nearly 7 and a half minutes with a note progression that feels less like playing an instrument and more like navigating a heavily loaded Vietnamese mine field, DragonForce's "Through the Fire and the Flames" is pretty much what you'd expect from a band that had the balls to name itself DragonForce. Ultimately, the guitar-smashing annoyance of the song will leave you channeling Pete Townsend more than any The Who song on Guitar Hero.
For whatever reason, the people that bring you Mario games have developed a relatively simple yet diabolically brilliant method for increasing the difficulty of any level: take the most basic and comforting element of the previous levels, and just get rid of it. For Rainbow Road, this means no more railings, and in the case of "Tubular," this means no more ground. Instead, the primary method of getting to the end of the level is jumping on any number of minions, and being even the slightest degree off is a recipe for disaster.
What's not to hate about Seth? Physically, he's an unapologetic ripoff of Dr. Manhattan, and his Special Moves are just a collection of Special Moves of classic characters, from Guile's Sonic Boom to Dhalsim's long range punch/kicks to Zangief's pile driver. But the ultimate meta irony of Seth lies in the name, as it's not hard to imagine this being an assignment from some Jager-guzzling frat boy who "totes spaced" on the assignment and threw it together a half hour before it was due.
What makes playing the Waterfall level without the Konami Code really annoying is the fact that you're always a 10 button sequence away from making the game remarkably easy. Imagine taking a take-home test with a fully functioning cheat sheet at your side and refusing to make even the slightest glance in its direction. If you've got the stomach for it, hats off, but if you need me I'll be the one who eventually came to his senses and decided to dominate the crap out of this level.
17 years had passed between Mike Tyson's Punchout! and Madden '04. In that span sport video games, particularly the Madden franchise, were lauded for their ever-increasing attention to realism. Then '04 coverboy Michael Vick broke the mold and led the Atlanta Falcons to the elite group of "unplayable" Madden teams. And be honest, there's nothing more annoying than watching as your opponent revels in victory when literally all he had to do for a first down was drop Vick back 15 or so yards, pick a side, and press X.