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Sunday Comics: Dead Island Brent Nielsen has a corner office catching 270 degrees of Florida sunshine, and his face lights up whenever you tell him a good golf story. Especially one that happened inside the game he makes, Tiger Woods PGA Tour.
This Saturday was about as throwing-things livid I’ve been over a sports contest in a decade. The last time I was this angry was in 2003, when Jorge Posada doubled off of Pedro Martinez to tie the seventh game of the American League Championship Series. I kicked a rubbish bin across the newsroom of the Rocky Mountain News and cursed Grady Little and his mother. Brian Crecente asked the supervising editor to reprimand me.
All my friend wanted was a simple, get-rid-of-it-on-Craigslist estimate for an original Xbox, two controllers, and about a dozen games. He knew that what he had was too common in its time, too obsolete in the present, to qualify as some latter-day Antiques Roadshow jackpot. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to appraise it at $US25. At that price, I could see him leaving it by the curb, sitting sadly on an old chair with a “FREE” sign, to be claimed by scavengers or the garbage man.
With respect and admiration for, if not apologies to, the late Ernie Harwell, here’s something adapted from his famous Induction Day speech at the National Baseball Hall of Fame, Aug. 2, 1981, which itself was adapted from this 1955 essay. Stick Jockey published this last year on Thanksgiving weekend. I’ve updated it for this year, and I’d like for it to become a tradition.
Roger Ebert did a brave thing today, a terrible thing today: He admitted that he was wrong and said he has no plans on rectifying that.
Parting with one’s treasured game collection can be an unthinkable proposition for many. But having a baby absolutely transforms your life, as one long-tenured Kotaku US commenter writes. And that makes such decisions not only possible, but downright necessary.
New Super Mario Bros. Wii released a week ago, and even its light-hearted cartoon environment and four-player cooperative mode still manage to bring out the worst in multiplayer behaviour – if you don’t know your partner, that is.
Last week Penny Arcade’s own Tycho contacted me to see if I would be interested in writing a short piece for their site about Digital Rights Management. What with the escalating brouhaha with Electronic Arts and likelihood that this won’t be the last time gamers run face first into some form of DRM they don’t like, I jumped at the opportunity.
In the short essay I talk about the origins of the word piracy (Daniel Defoe don’t you know), and the absurdity of applying todays shrinking ownership rights to a situation closer to that origin. I also call for a sort of Gamers’ Bill of Digital Rights. Not that anyone will listen.
If that sort of stuff floats your boat hop on over on the link to check it out. If it doesn’t interest you, hop over there to read Tycho’s take on my “wavy locks and hard-arse goatee.”
The Origin Of The CD-Keys, Part One [Penny Arcade]
