It’s the room, the sun, and the sky
The room, the sun, and the sky
Been out of town for a couple of weeks, and thus away from my consoles. I looked at news and relevant threads to keep abreast while I was on the road, but not too much. I kind of figured all this PSN stuff would sort itself out by now. Surely it would have to.
Nope. This PSN is fine. Not the one I need right now, though. So I figured I’d do another story level for the above-the-fold of this week’s column. I fired up my PS3. Launched LBP2. Went to my pod and engaged Story mode. Started sorting through the bits I’d already played, trying to figure out which section of this particular world level I had not yet tried. Looked at percentages. Thwocked around trying to ascertain where the next unplayed bit was. Did this for a few minutes.
Paused. Recalled something my six-year old taught me on the plane the other day. Took a deep breath. Let it out and said…
“Fuck it.”
After the break, peggle for your thoughts Continue reading →
This is the kind of thing that happens when you park for too long in the bowels of a particle collider. In this picture’s case, it was a zombie technician with a flamethrower-esque thing. They’ve got no range to speak of, so they’re really only a danger if my car has barely-holding-together levels of damage already, or if you just park there and taunt them. The zappy zombies are much less problematic than the occasional exploding zombies, which are–like so many things in my character’s life in Clutch–the fault of the Reapers. If you’re enlightened enough to be chosen, you take off your sunglasses to be zombified and get rigged up with explosives to wander the streets.
So there I am, on fire. It’s between missions, so respawning is just a button away. At this point, I’m in the third and final episode of the storyline. I’ve been deprogrammed by a scientist who is either unnamed or literally named Scientist, and I prefer to believe the latter. My diary indicates a hangover, to put it legally. It also says that “The Scientist says it’s the abstinence syndrome. The yen.” That figures. Leave it to a crazy cult to give you abstinence syndrome.
After the jump…science! Continue reading →
Snow!
Colonel-General Guderian was near Teploie on the night of November 3-4, 1941, where the day before, the leading infantry elements of LIII Corps had run into a large Russian force comprised of two cavalry divisions, five rifle divisions, and a tank brigade. The Russians were able to make some progress thanks to the mobility of their T-34 medium tanks in the stifling mud, whereas the Germans had had to leave behind all of their heavy equipment. In the middle of this tenuous situation, Guderian’s chief of staff handed him a detailed operations plan, prepared weeks before, for a general resumption of the offensive on 4 November, including a sharp counterattack by mobile elements of Geyr von Schweppenburg’s XXIV Panzer Corps. The plan detailed extensive German movements over ground assumed to be hardened by frost and new snowfall. The commander of 2 Panzer Army was dumbfounded. “How can you prepare an entire operational plan based on the supposition that it will snow tonight?” Guderian demanded. “Herr General,” his adjutant protested, “it’s Turn 22”. “Ah yes,” the Colonel-General replied. “You are right”.
After the jump, an 8th grader shows up Adolph Hitler Continue reading →
If you give a peasant a loaf of bread, he’ll eat for a day. If you teach a peasant to fight, he’ll beat the hell out of the brigands that harass his village every week and take their bread instead. We’ve been asked by the village elder of Sarimish to instruct his villagers in the noble, timeless art of bandit slaughter. Judging from the trail of bodies we left in our wake traveling here from Jelkala, we are more than qualified to serve as instructors, but we need to make a supply run first.
After the jump, the juggernaut steams ahead. Continue reading →
