For several reasons, I'm less inclined to share my real name at the moment. Of course, thanks to social media, it's out there, but DAMMIT YOU WILL GO NO HINTS FROM ME.
I'm a poet and a gamer, and I dabble in novel writing. I read a lot, unless I am feeling the call of Diablo 3 or Skyrim at that particular moment. My writing draws from a lot of influences and authors. My poetry is all over the place, with free verse, haiku, limericks, and sonnets being my favorites (well, I like sonnets when they are DONE), and my various in-progress novels are informed from such various sources as HP Lovecraft, Frank Herbert, Sheridan Le Fanu, Isaac Asimov, Ray Bradbury, and even, depending on the story, Jaz Primo and Stephanie Meyer.
Taste is relative to what you're reading, folks.
I'm an all around geek and thinker, and it's my pleasure to bring the finest of my brain to the internet.
*INSERT CAT VIDEO!*
So I finally have signed up for EA Origin, preordered Mass Effect Andromeda, and threw in a subscription to EA Access while I was at it. And then I discovered that as a member of EA Access, I was able to get the deluxe editions of the whole Mass Effect Trilogy on the house. Along with a bunch of other games I’d been itching to play on PC at no additional cost. Next month I’ll see about snapping up the Mass Effect Trilogy DLCs to complete the set.
This… this turned out better than I could have possibly anticipated.
That all being said, EA Access netted me:
Battlefield 4 Premium Edition
Crysis 2 Maximum Edition
Dead Space 2
Dead Space 3 (which I will admit I only took because it was goddamn free) Dragon Age Origins: Ultimate Edition
Dragon Age 2
Dragon Age Inquisition Digital Deluxe Edition
Jade Empire Special Edition
Mass Effect 2 Digital Deluxe Edition
Mass Effect 3 Digital Deluxe Edition
Mirror’s Edge Catalyst
Star Wars Battlefront
Titanfall Deluxe Edition Unravel
This saves me the trouble of rebuying a good half of the games I own on PS3/4 and Xbox One/360 at significantly higher prices.
That list will only grow.
All for $5.99 a month.
And I got Syberia II out of their “On The House” channel.
EA may be moral shitstains, but they’re GENEROUS moral shitstains.
So I’ve made the very sad decision to abandon Overwatch. The game is good. The people playing it? Not so much. Ever since they put in Competitive play, it’s spread poor sportsmanship and Lunkheadedness like the fastest cancer I’ve ever seen.
I’ve tried to play Overwatch several times since Competitive Mode was introduced, but I just can’t get into it. Too many CompHeads are ruining the fun community feel that was abundant in the beta and at launch. Overwatch started as a fun, relaxed and friendly team shooter for the rest of us, but now it’s got the same kind of dickwads that infest the Halo and Call of Duty multiplayer modes, and muting them in-game solves nothing; they’ll FIND YOU on social media.
The atmosphere on the actual game is just toxic for me. People only care about Comp, and only care about anything else as how it relates to their Comp performance – even in arcade mode. I used to try just playing on the off-season where it should be more relaxed, but godfuckingdammit the lunkheads never take a break. They’re like those guys at the gym who grunt excessively and drop weights. Jumping to quick play or Arcade solves nothing: these guys are now the majority and are EVERYWHERE. Nowhere is safe.
It used to be that if you lost a couple of matches, there was an attitude of “Man, that fight was TENSE! Sucks that we lost again, but it’s okay. We’ll roll with the punches and get ’em next time.”
Now you hear “FUCK OH MY FUCKING GOD iAmLegend38! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT AND NOW I’M GONNA DROP DOWN TO GOLD TIER BECAUSE LOSSES ARE LITERALLY CANCER!”
To which you might respond: “…We’re in Arcade mode? There’s no ranking here.”
And then you hear back “IT DOESN’T MATTER! OUR LOSS WAS ALL YOUR FAULT AND NOW I’M NOT GONNA STOP LOSING.”
Firstly: I guess I missed the part where your failures were my problem.
Secondly: I’m really sad about this development because before comp was introduced, I’d never had more fun on a team shooter. Now I just don’t have fun at all.
Overwatch has stopped being fun, but it’s not the game’s fault. It’s the fault of guys who scream in chat and social media: ‘IF YOU DON’T LIKE COMP STOP PLAYING OVERWATCH YOU STUPID DICKSUCKING CUCK’.
Thanks to that attitude? Yeah, I think I will stop playing. It’s clearly not my home anymore.
And that’s genuinely sad because once upon a time, Overwatch had a great community. Dare I say it, it had the BEST community of any online shooter.
It most unabashedly is. Played without alternate start mods, the main story doesn’t really allow for a whole lot of realistic roleplaying options that aren’t tragic if your character is as “bloke off the street” as the opening implies, doubly so if you’re playing the female protag (SHE’S A PRE-WAR LAWYER, BETHESDA. Not a supersoldier!)
Case in point: my first two characters, both played as the female protag, in which I attempted to react as organically to what the game offers as possible, based not on video game logic, but real logic (or rather, emotion).
They… did not exactly THRIVE.
In order, my first character watched:
-Nukes obliterate her whole world.
-Minutes later (by her perception) her husband is murdered and her son stolen -SECONDS APART while she’s helpless to intervene.
-Minutes after THAT (again, by her perception) she wakes up in a dead Vault where nobody there she might have known and leaned on for support died due to what appears to be a freak accident (finding out the truth later only makes it worse).
-After leaving the Vault, she meets the post-nuclear world and only barely survives it.
-After scraping by for a while and meeting some well-meaning folks, she finally revenges herself upon her husband’s murderer. Unfortunately, in the aftermath she realizes that it’s a hollow victory; her husband is still dead and will always be dead, and her son is still missing.
-After meeting with allies and giving herself a crash-course in teleporter construction theory, she finally reunites with her son, only to discover it’s a decoy.
-She then discovers her actual son has grown up to be a morally bankrupt and emotionally apathetic man whose goals and actions embody everything she despises, and skips burning bridges because by his own admissionthere were never any bridges to burn in the first place. She and the son she’s crossed Hell and High Water for are mortal enemies mere days after being reunited. -Eventually, after invading the Institute, she kills him herself while, and blowing up the Institute in spectacularly nuclear fashion.
-On the roof of the Mass Fusion building, she realizes that she died the day the nukes fell, and elects to finish the job the nukes botched by throwing herself off the Mass Fusion building. Her story ends. I have never revisited this character, because my headcanon says she’s no kidding actually dead.
My second character DID NOT commit suicide, but instead snapped from all the above after blowing up the Institute and fell into a cognitively dissonant omnicidal nihilism, reasoning that Hell had been relocated to Earth, and the only way to cope was to become the biggest devil of them all. She wound up the Commonwealth’s equivalent of the Joker who allowed the Pack and the Disciples to overrun the Commonwealth, butchering and enslaving everyone. So she’s still technically alive, but everything she’d been and stood for as a person was still dead, and all that remained was the monster that consumed her.
I used to say stuff like this myself before I actually met some folks in my hometown who came the the USA as refugees from Afghanistan in the 1980’s (pretty sure it was Afghanistan, but don’t quote me on that). Now, their oldest son runs the Halal market started by his parents when they first came to the United States what seems like ages ago, and it really changed my tune because I was running personally into the fact that we are a nation of immigrants and refugees. Alaska, my home state, was largely settled by people who couldn’t make it anywhere else, or were running from something.
It’s easy to read about that stuff in history class and file it as a tidbit in your head, but quite another to find yourself face to face with the reality of that fact.
And Detroit? The former Motor City that fell apart in the 1960’s and 1970’s? It’s beginning to shine again. Who’s doing it? Muslim immigrants who weren’t wanted anywhere else, but saw the almost abandoned ruins of a former capital of industry and decided to make something of it. There is nothing more fucking American than that. That is the American Dream, the idea that people with nothing can make themselves and even their communities into something great. Maybe we don’t all get to be as rich as the Walton Family, but we can all be MORE than we started as, and our children can be more than what we finish as, and down the line that goes, propelling us further as long as we keep the Dream alive.
America was built by that attitude. And if immigrants and refugees want to bring that to my country and give us a shot in the arm of a powerful cocktail of new blood and a can-do attitude, then let them come. Bring them in by the barge-load. Because Trump is more right than he knows. This IS the time to Make America Great Again, and these brand new first and second generation Americans are going to be invaluable in that pursuit. Because nobody wants to build something new more than someone who has already lost everything.
Let them come. Let them have a fair shot at living the Dream. And if some of them want to start trouble? We’ll deal with them. But punishment comes after the crime, and we don’t prosecute the innocent along with the guilty.
As Captain America once said:
So should we all.
I refuse to stand in the way of honest folks who just want a piece of that for their own families. I’ve no more right to it than they. No one has any more right to it than they.
“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”
The best-worst thing about playing Skyrim after all this time is doing factions in a flow outside what the game intended. Like, it’s fairly obvious that the Companions were always meant to be the first faction you joined, which leads to some hilarious moments of idiot-ball-carrying if you DIDN’T join them straight away and… did stuff first.
I only joined them AFTER I already killed Alduin, exterminated Lord Harkon and his court, defeated Miraak, assassinated the Emperor, and singlehandedly won the Civil War, and so when I went to FINALLY join the Companions, Vilkas treated my Dragonborn to this little gem that suddenly becomes that much more hilarious: “But master, I’ve never even heard of this outsider.”
Meanwhile, I’m just standing there like “Really bro? Dragonborn? Vanquisher of Alduin World-Eater? Thane of the city you live in? Unifier of Skyrim? He who sacked the city you live in, and the City of Solitude and beheaded General Tullius? Exterminator of the vampire menace? They sing songs about me in every pub from here to High Rock. You haven’t heard of me at all, fam?”
And if you’re one of those who had already joined but have neglected the early quests, Skjor will simply keep saying “you still need to prove yourself, whelp.”
My old PS4 is dead.
D. E. A. D.
But honestly? After the damned thing cost me internet overages on no fewer than 18 separate billing cycles by unpausing my paused game update files at 4 in the morning while I slept and couldn’t stop it, I had already named it “Judas”. In a not so weird way, I’m glad the bitch is finally dead – I’d only tried booting it up at all to watch a blu-ray after leaving it unplugged for almost a year. Very not worth it to me to buy a new one. So tomorrow I’ll be holding a funeral for Judas the PlayStation.
It’ll be a viking funeral – I can’t wait to set this little motherfucker on fire!
And before you bring up the obvious “solution” (turning off auto-updates), let me first be sarcastic at you: I’ve owned Judas since six months after the PS4’s launch. No, turning off auto-updates had never once fucking occurred to me.
I exhausted every option available to me in my multi-year quest to fix this damn thing. I did it all. Eventually, I even unsubscribed from PS+. Not for performance issues, mind, but because my online friends began to stop playing co-op with me altogether and simultaneous with these events, the free monthly games selection began to routinely suck ass.
But none of that appeased Judas.
Judas’ constant insatiable hunger for updates never stopped or slowed. If I ever agreed to download something, Judas wouldn’t rest until it was done, so I just unplugged it when I wasn’t using it (it would even turn itself back on –cold boot itself– otherwise!), and I eventually stopped using it completely. After that, it just sat in a closet corner with a sheet covering it like some horrible forgotten thing for the better part of 2016, only being awakened once during that span to blitz through Uncharted 4 (of which I am honestly not a fan, which I never thought I’d say about a Naughty Dog game).
Meanwhile, my PlayStation Vita has never once had betrayal on its mind, and my Xbox One has never lifted a metaphorical finger to do ANYTHING without my express permission in each instance. And so far, my PC has behaved itself, barring a crazy amount of updates after the initial startup, which honestly I’d expected to happen anyways.
Judas was just pure evil in console form, and after Sony botching the releases of their various Xperia phones in America during that long but critical period where people like me still cared about that brand, their MASSIVE customer service fuck up regarding my Vaio laptop some years before (they refused to repair it despite it being under warranty and made me send it to Best Buy, who broke it even worse. Twice in a fucking row.), and their willful abortion of the Vita before they’d even seriously tried to help it succeed (they gave up entirely after what, two years?), this string of betrayals by Judas was the thing that finally and fully axe-murdered my prior obsessive fanboyish love of Sony products beyond hope of redemption.
Sony done screwed up, and after all this time, I firmly believe they have no one to blame but themselves.
At the dawn of the 20th century, Thomas Edison and his company discovered that the human eye needed to see, at bare minimum, a framerate of what we would today call 10 FPS before our brains could become convinced that a single image was in fact moving and not just a fast slide show. 10 FPS is the baseline. Edison actually shot a few films at this framerate, including a short film adaptation of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (beating Universal to the punch by two decades), but little of these films survived.
24 FPS was a standard of Old Hollywood, and games below this seem choppy and poorly animated to pretty much everyone. This low framerate is part of why restored versions of old films that feature a higher framerate seem so odd to watch, but it is only part of the reason.
30-45 FPS is the current Hollywood standard, and this is the range in which most console games fall, as developers consider it the “best of averages” balancing on screen details and framerate.
60 FPS is the up-coming standard of Hollywood — for instance, the Hobbit films were filmed with special 60 FPS cameras. This ended up making test audiences complain that the films felt “unnaturally smooth”, so in many theaters, the films were artificially brought back down to 45 FPS, which is how you probably saw them unless you saw them in IMAX. For PC gamers, this is often the minimum optimum framerate.
60+ FPS is the desired framerate for PC gaming, especially for games that require pixel-perfect reflex timing like serious e-sports. It will be a long while before Hollywood or consoles catches up to this.