I secretly like to play Halo

I really don't understand why people have this blind defense of the Halo games versus the millions of other identical games on the market. Hey, guess what, you're a space marine in a battle suit and you battle aliens and bad guys and go from level to level and setting to setting and you pick up extraordinarily generic "futuristic" guns that are ALWAYS the same bullet firing garbage from the humans versus the oh-so-pretty plasma firing "advanced" alien technology and guess what you are the only person in the universe that can save the universe and if you fail you have to start over from the beginning of the level and try again to save the universe because the bad guys will call a do-over because, obviously, they really don't think it's all that fair that they have 300 quadrillion soldiers and your entire army consists of you and a small squad of hilariously incompetent AI partners (this is an optional bonus, of course; sometimes it's just little old you and you don't even have any squadmates to act as foils to your excessive, testosterone belching manliness and space marine-ness) and the bad guys will reset and all the of the destroyed scenery will be put back in place to have the same thing happen to it next time you come through (this is where the real price in war comes - do you know how expensive those sets are? Look at all the shiny and/or extremely sepia toned foreign architecture!) and you will try again to be a macho space marine who is supposed to be an incredible hero like James Bond or Scooby-Doo and when you accomplish your almost impossible, very daunting task you stand stiffly at attention and blow it off like the modest, polite, and humble manly space marine that you are and then everyone throws a giant party in your honor but you don't care about the party you just cared that you saved the world and the universe from utter destruction and god damn you were the only one who could have done it and god damn did you pull it off and god damn it only took 803 resets this time and I really crushed those alien menaces like I would crush my Styrofoam cup at parties to impress the ladies and you probably would have gotten the lady too if you weren't so busy ogling the absurd and extremely Chauvinistic female portrayals inside of video games where they giggle and bobble their undoubtedly large bosom and flirt with you, Mr. space marine hero who saved the universe and who was the only one who could do it when nobody else was able to be able to do it and god damn that was a beautiful shot you made with the rocket launcher back there or how about that superb headshot on that medium-large variety of alien you made with your accurate sniper rifle that you know you couldn't have made with your machine rifle because that thing is inaccurate as hell I mean have you seen it shoot the crosshairs are huge you can only hit stuff in small, cramped, poorly lit hallways which very fortunately occupy about half of the known universe and the other half is migraine-inducing bloom with various shades of taupe and bisque and sepia and other hilariously funny-sounding colors that, when you think about it, are all just fucking brown but somehow extremely reflective and the sun is up in the air and it glistens off of your space marine suit of the super space marine, you, who is the only person who is right for the job in which the requirements state that you have to be able to defeat an entire army of strangely evil and motivated bad space aliens who are going to destroy the university and god damn Mr. space marine you are the only man who meets those stringent job requirements and you've worked hard to get qualified to do this job and wear the super powered armor suit and be ready to be the only person in the universe who is capable of saving the universe because only you are up to the challenge and sometimes you will be in a dark area and you will have to figure out some sort of ingenious procedure in which you can lower a bridge or disable an energy field that is blocking your path and your quick, genius super marine brain instantly is able to follow the mind-numbing linearity of the game and able to find out that there's only two cramped corridors that you can go down and one has a grenades pickup and a switch and the other one has a forcefield and somewhere in your super human better than me brain you were able to figure out that pressing the switch actually opens the door and you are so proud because you get to go to another identical room in which you fight another identical set of stupendously evil space aliens and I know you'll win Mr. space marine because I know that you, you of all the people and creatures in the universe are the one for the job and believe me I checked and I checked for a long time and I checked at least eighty maybe ninety percent of the creatures in the universe before I decided you were the only one for the job and believe me it was not easy finding all of those critters because the universe is a pretty big place like at least a couple miles across and wow it took me a couple hours to do it at least and that is a long time to do something by golly but I finally decided that you were the only one who could do it and I knew I could count on you because you got the job done in the end and I've seen this entire storyline in every other space shooting pew-pew bang bang game I've ever played. <--- this is a period.