윤

Coincidentally I was just telling the boy about how Arceus was probably a one-off like Let’s Go, but the 2025 “simultaneous” release (no doubt verification that the Switch is about to go the way of the Wii U) does offer something of a deadline to my parallel play-throughs of this game I’ve more than once described as my second coming of Ultima V. The same thought occurs while hoarding certain items like I did those broken ᚨᛏ scrolls, but truth is, I’ve reserved a full treatment for fear of failure to do my feelings justice. These past few months in Faerûn have truly allowed me to relive du temps perdu and marvel at the storytelling craft in both epic scale and minute detail I haven’t since. And I can’t thank Larian enough for the risk they took on their ambitions with a dice-rolling turn-based alternative for someone who’s aging out of twitching as a measure of interactive experience.

The timing of Toho’s first new feature following シン (and their monsters-only shorts), the Apple series and another Legendary sequel next April would’ve spoiled 8-year-old me who’d go on to starve between Star Wars installments.

I’m still reeling from the events of last weekend, but carry on as I always have with the imaginary solace that American safety net GoFundMe is amassing for William Cho a Bruce Wayne-sized estate to make something of a legacy. It was actually the night before that I sat for this recent release, was mildly entertained by its refreshingly tongue-in-cheek approach to the genre, only to spot right away what has understandably got to be my favorite cameo ever, despite it being no strange a feature in all these nostalgic sequels and remakes.

I forgot, I really did like seeing some of the 60’s cast members in the one-off Lost in Space movie—starring Gary Oldham? (And Heather Graham, who is always welcome to segue into my subconscious.) The show came up, right on cue, when I was reminded of Dr. Smith’s “oh, the pain” catchphrase upon turning over another year and expecting little else to convince me not to make it my own. Learning that Jonathan Harris was 54 during his act (and milked it for 3 decades) doesn’t help.

Spate of new-ish programming lately that’s kept me powering through the interminably repetitive weeks: From is back and as abstruse as ever; Matt U. assured me there’s a supernatural component to Yellowjackets, so I gave in to see what all the hoopla is about; Mrs. Davis, Damon Lindelof’s latest romp, about an omnipresent AI that is actually hardly around; Rabbit Hole, which really should’ve gone where its title suggests but instead seems like a worse version of Mrs. Davis; and the superior spy show with the MI5 rejects in “Slough House.” Gary Oldham’s Jackson Lamb is the freshest character I’ve seen in some time.

Apple’s been picking some winners lately, so I gave Silo a shot, and the scene with Rebecca Ferguson climbing toward answers at the end of the second episode must’ve led me to a dead end in a neighborhood completely sealed off by connected buildings, some businesses like a coin laundry, most of the others residential. The cul-de-sac didn’t appear to have any exit than the way I came, until I spotted what looked like one on the third floor up a mesh ladder, followed by the traditional kind from the second level. Surprisingly no fear of heights. An Indian woman called for her boys Xavier and Shervin, neither of which I recognized as Hindi names. A prominent radio antennae stood on the roof.

There’s still some surprising me, after all; I shat all over the first two seasons of Picard, their unwelcome new characters, nonsensical plotlines, and worst to me, the submission to popular dystopianism—turns out all they really needed to do was bring everyone back, a few of their kids and some familiar guest cameos. …And fuck me, that reunion on the bridge of the D was worth it all, as if they wrote the entire season around it, to hell with the previous ones or rational in-universe explanations. Never mind the lighting, it was the carpet all along! Reminded me of how I’d see Star Blazers in TNG, e.g., Wolf 359 to the Earth Defense Force’s last stand against the Comet Empire; this is like their Yamato.

In these days of evil presidentes
Working for the clampdown
But lately one or two has fully paid their due
For working for the clampdown

In the furor over the 1899 cancellation a Reddit poster suggested a much cheaper and renewed Epix series From, which I binged in but a day or two and might have something more to say about (I honestly don’t, other than to hope this incarnation of Lost delivers at least one “[The] Constant”—what’s with these four-letter titles; Evil, too), for an opportune upload on Nyaa led me back to Netflix and overlooked drama 방법 from a few years ago. Brilliant villianess and some nice ideas like the gathering of shamans from around the world like Street Fighter, one of them being a manga artist like Lovecraft’s Pickman, though the best part was undoubtedly the craziest zombie chase scene, ever, in the follow-up film. If only Inspector Koo‘s 12 episodes could’ve received such treatment! …The thought got me started on a rewatch, and with that in mind, there certainly is enough material seeded for a similar short sequel, one that pits the team against a challenging enough one-off opponent but in the process, of course, must solve the mystery behind her husband’s suicide, which K was right, involved 산타씨, but maybe not as she described. “Santa’s Secret” could be the subtitle.

I’ve used highlights from Son in the past, that one as an OBS scene when my former Brawlstars partner would score, but I’ve gotta hand it to him for defying the do-or-die stakes and coming through with a world-class assist to advance. Somewhere out there, assuming the Parkinson’s hasn’t completely taken his mind, 윤대섭 smugly recalls championing his countrymen against the doubts of a fellow viewer of Soccer Made in Germany. I lived to see the advent of Kpop, too.

It’s been almost twenty years and I’m still waiting.

Based Koo.