The speed at which the kinetic energy plus the gravitational potential energy of an object is zero. The speed needed to “break free” from a gravitational field without further propulsion.
Whatever dorks. I just had the worst day ever. How about helping me out with that?
Oh. Sorry man. Didn’t know this meant that much to you. Start with this one.
That screenshot looks terrible.
Yes. But trust us. You’ll love learning the level.
That looks like something some pre-schooler drew. Using I don’t know what.
Stop it. It’s an undersea shooter. You’re that bright thing at the bottom. Cleaning up toxic waste and shooting mutants.
Well. Okay. That sounds cool. But you’d better not be wrong about this.
I’d just like to point out a few nifty details in the above replay from Dirt 3. Note the little figure dangling from the car’s rear view mirror. That’s my Xbox Live avatar. Mirror and dashboard ornaments were unlockables in Dirt 2, but in Dirt 3, you automatically get your avatar. Nifty touch, sure, but it’s a shame there’s no incentive to drive from that view. Also, you can’t drive from the wider view you see in the replay that shows both the driver and co-driver. Instead, the viewpoints is, as you’d expect, from the driver’s point of view.
This is a rally course in Kenya. That village looks every bit as good as, say, a level in Resident Evil 5 or Far Cry 2, even though you’ll almost never get to see it as anything other than a blur of scenery. Speaking of which, you might notice what looks like a radio tower in the middle of the village. That’s no such thing. It’s the base of a windmill that you can see when the course loads. And if you’ve turned off the music — and good lord, what a relief it is to turn off the music in Dirt 3! — you can actually hear the pastoral creak of the turning windmill. Did you see Meek’s Cutoff? Probably not. But if you had, you’d have an ear for the forlorn creak of a turning wheel.
The camera movement during the replay is automatic, and above you can see some of the more energetic instances of camera movement. It’s a bit gratuitous, but it sure does add a lot of energy. Videogames love to move cameras around, as if they’re lording it over real cameras. It reminds me of the scene in War of the Worlds when Tom Cruise is driving away from New York and the camera is swirling around and into the car while he and his kids freak out. That scene is like the replay from a racing game.
That’s the worst bridge in the world. Someone should tell whomever built it that bridges are supposed to go over the water, not under it.
Of course, I fully intended to hit that little sign with the happy face on it. Although that’s no happy face. It’s a stopwatch icon. Every time you pass those signs, your time is registered and you can see your rank among the other drivers running the course. Now the car behind me won’t know he’s coming up on a checkpoint unless he’s looking on the right side of the road. Ha!
At the very end of the replay, the camera glitches. Did you see it? Don’t blink! I love when that sort of imperfection is coded into a game, like lens flare in the olden days. Most recently, this was used to great effect in Kane and Lynch 2, which was made to look like a cheap digital video, with compression artifacts and smeared lighting. It was one of the boldest aesthetic choices I’ve ever seen in a videogame and I loved it.
I have no idea what kind of car I’m driving. It’s, um, a Monza Sport XL-5 Rally Car 2000. Okay, I made that up. Dirt 3 is really terrible about making me care about the cars.
Upon booting up a new game of Pride of Nations, the upcoming strategy game that models the era of the Industrial Revolution around the world, I poked around among the screens. I discovered that I can research molasses extraction centrifuges, which are represented by the above picture. Industry! These centrifuges will improve the efficiency of my sugar plantations. Also available on the research screen are standardized screws, schools of forestry, and the first synthesis of colourants [sic] and perfumes. I am simultaneously fascinated, delighted, and horrified by this level of detail. I’m not sure I need to actually play the game. I could occupy myself for hours just poring over the armies and leaders and policies and resources and cities and colonies and shipping navies, even before they get molasses extraction centrifuges.
The really surprising thing about SOCOM 4 is that although it looks bog standard, it manages to find its own niche. It’s no Mag, and it’s no Killzone 3, and it’s no Brink, and it’s no Call of Duty. Here’s the single player review and here’s the multiplayer review. Overall, I’d give it a thumbs up.
(As a side note that doesn’t really have anything to do with the quality of the game, I’ve heard some of the most vile online conversations while playing SOCOM 4. I don’t pretend to have any insight into the game’s player community as a whole, and it’s entirely possible my experience wasn’t typical. But on separate occasions, the conversations I heard about military matters, politics, race and religion went well beyond the usual trash talk. Stuff about Obama, and what we should do in Afghanistan, and how Muslims are. Does the SOCOM series appeal to a certain type of player, or have I just not been playing military shooters online enough to hear these types of conversations? It’s enough to make me long for the days before anyone on the Playstation Network had a Bluetooth headset.)
