Coming steaming into crimbo, I’ve been in a frenzy of productivity not seen for a long time. It all started on monday night; since it’s the holiday so I don’t actually do anything all day, I have trouble getting to sleep. So I was lying awake, thinking about whatever, and came up with a solution to a problem that has plagued me for quite some time…
Fans of RDZ Industries may or may not be overjoyed. Fans of This Wreckage will be dismayed that I haven’t worked on it for the last five days. I’m sorry; this is too good an opportunity to pass up. I haven’t been this productive for a long time.
Theoretically, this is a festive blog — because it was many crimbos ago that I found the delightful Unreal Tournament waiting for me under the tree.
This is funny because that was way back when my parents were all “can’t let that Robbie have those violent shooter games, he’ll grow up to be a very nasty man” — and then they got me one of the bastions of computerised brutality. Also fun to note that I’m a lot less angry now than I ever was, after years of fragging bots. Coincidence?
Spurred on by my returning mouse control skills, I’ve been playing all three installments’ singleplayer campaigns. This is a little unusual; I’d usually spend large spurts on a single title (both on the campaign and randomised Deathmatches) rather than quick-fire slamming through them all.
This puts me in a very good position to objectively compare and contrast all three titles… Continue reading →
I never cared about this when I bought it; I was more concerned about it having the ability to switch itself on in the morning, and the ability to switch on at the same volume I last disabled it with (my last hi-fi had neither of these abilities; I had to race to the volume control to damp it down from a horrifying 14 before the digital radio managed to tune in every time I switched it on).
So I didn’t care much for the fact of a card reader’s existence; the rest of the hi-fi satisfied my criteria. But recently, I have found its presence… Rather liberating.
“What has happened to me? Have my wrists grown slack from old age? Have my once razor-fine reflexes been dulled by too much programming? Did I sell my pinpoint accuracy to the devil in exchange for the ability to dance?”