While You Were Sleeping

Sleeping can be fun - necessary even. But what if stuff happens when you're sleeping - game stuff? What are you supposed to to do then? Thankfully we have a solution - While You Were Sleeping, a quick round up of all the news that happened… while you were sleeping.

It's all been about Nintendo this morning. A couple of (probably bogus) rumours about the name of Nintendo's next console. Apparently it's called the 'Beem'? Not buying this. Then again, if someone had showed me a rumour that the Wii was called the 'Wii'. I'd have spat my cornflakes all over their face. I'm constantly eating cornflakes. Constantly.

This is another piece of healthy Nintendo name speculation, and apparently Nintendo's US website has been hack - by the same hackers who hit Sony.

And the E3 trailers are about to get kicking. This is The Old Republic's new trailer, and this girl has Mario stuff on her frickin' nails.

In Short The Old Republic's E3 Trailer Is Quite A To Do List Is The New Nintendo Console Called Nintendo? Is Nintendo's Next Console Called The Beem Hackers Who Hit Sony Now Breach Nintendo's US Website She's Got World 1.1 Nailed


Comments

    It would be nice for the new console to be simply called 'Nintendo'..then I could say 'I'm playing Nintendo' and be quite specific.

    : (

    The Plainview Report:

    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

    Ahoy-hoy, old boy.

    I fell asleep in my car last night at the old lookout in the hills.

    You can see everything from the old lookout: it’s like all the lights in the world flicker and dance in darkness of endless night.

    Sometimes everything just looks so infinite.

    Upon morning they are but memory, replaced by smoke in the valley and the light of new day promise.

    The lookout is the perfect place to plan adventure and escape, nobody goes there anymore so it’s the perfect place for almost anything.

    Imagination as limitation, or something like that.

    But enough of that guff, it must stop, to sleep in dreams atop city lights has left me reflective: too reflective for Monday morning and I can see that now more clearly than ever.

    You run hard and fast and comfortably ahead of the pack when it comes to matters of video games; this is something I have come to understand with the kind of certainty that belongs to pro-athletes, bar-flys and those of middle-management disposition.

    What I mean to say is, to be succinct, I can tell you nothing about the culture of gaming that you don’t already know, or have forgotten for reasons of importance and economy.

    Travel light - that’s what I always say.

    I did see something that might be of interest to you; with a degree of assumption that you had not already seen it.

    Nothing more than a diversion and of no real importance is what it is.

    Let me find what I was looking for here and I can tell you all about.

    Here it is.

    George Plimpton’s http://www.newgrounds.com/portal/view/571422 Video Game Falconry is something of an oddity and if you watch the backstory attached to the game then that’s just explanation enough.

    Maybe you’ve already seen it.

    Maybe you’ve tiled your own roof without the appropriate safety equipment.

    Maybe you’ve put a match to all your belongings in an old oil drum in your backyard without the proper council authorisation.

    It’s all out there, just waiting to happen.

    Somebody needs to take the bull by the horns and just tell the bull that everything is going to be okay in the end.

    There’s a point of view that says one day this crazy world will stop and you can put a handful of dollars on nothing adding up to a hill of beans when it’s all said and done - big picture thinking at it’s most nihilistic.

    But after playing Plimpton’s Video Game Falconry, I’m not so sure that’s all true.

    Plimpton was a god amongst the raconteurs; he made every day count and the end of all things wasn’t something he had time to think about - he was too busy looking at today to consider tomorrow.

    Maybe nothing adds up to a hill of beans; maybe what George Plimpton did really means something.

    Maybe you’ve put you’re 23 year collection of Cosmopolitan magazine in the trunk of a car and pushed it off the edge of cliff just to hide the evidence.

    I have,

    Plainview.

    Went out for coffee, came home with a quote for a trip to Bali and a decent idea of how much a new mattress would cost me. Almost a success, except I missed most of the first half of game 3.

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