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Intellectual property is a concept borne from capitalism, right, and yet it seems folks whose only concern is self-enrichment are always the worst at following its rules. And loathe as I am to credit that cocksucker for anything, the story did lead me (back? Because this banger sounds familiar) to—

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 “just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in” line actually comes from the third and mostly awful Godfather movie, which I still also look back at for its portrayal of the way I least want to die, but that fucker who I had been watching for the past few weeks pushed me over the edge by letting Lae’zel die while simping Shadowheart as his “RP” love interest. So much for my console abstinence—which was hardly a show of principle if I’m to be honest, and more stubbornness to remount the gear treadmill, both in-game and out.

I’m certain I’ve never written about this place, since I only first stepped into our location this year. (There’s been some competition from the Panini Kabob Grill around the corner.) Last week I upped my “lines” of their 130K Scoville red sauce on my platter to six, and it cost me most of the following day.

Which got me thinking again about my three pillars of taste, and how the human flowchart will eventually force me to give them up, only one at a time, if I’m lucky. Jin compared them to Ultima’s Principles of Truth, Love and Courage (which of course combine to form the Eight Virtues, because they needed more than just three cities and dungeons) and gave me the idea for a comic where I’d meet their personifications, possibly represented by Geri Halliwell
, Gene Wilder and who else but that fucking nightmare from Star Trek. They’d have to emerge from within me, since I’ve already used the cosmic pantheon for my Lance Reddick one—I’ve really got to get to work to drop them all someday like a Netflix season.

…My 386/33 couldn’t run Doom with a playable framerate without shrinking the screen down to the size of, well, things clever people have been putting it on since. (The Ultima Underworlds required I read text.)
Used the AGE category on this entry but it’s more “Things Have Come” (as in a long way), isn’t it, though that’s probably a better acronym for another subject and as much as I like the riff on Wells, it’s not really something one notices or appreciates until there’s far enough to look back upon—not that a whole lot still can’t change, and for the better, but holy shit, there’s Lego of Korean boys.

I suppose it’s never too late to be taken by surprise. And honestly, even if I had known about the Atari Falcon at the turn of the millennium, I doubt it’d have broken my resolve outside CompUSA, nor lessened my subsequent experiences in Liberty and Vice Cities, among the many places that glorious black monolith took me. This chance historical revelation does, in fact, reinforce my long-held belief that their next iteration nose-dived and explains my disenchantment with console gaming, maybe a loss of faith in the Sony of old. (I say that as if I’m an Apple convert, but the PS3 still sits connected to the even older XBR LCD, which I refuse to update with dominant 재벌 brands and if we ever make it back to Japan, I’m definitely buying one of these.) You’re my only hope to feel again, GTA6!

I’m not sure what exactly kept me from playing the follow-up to one of my favorite early gaming experiences and the lead-in to an even more memorable time-sink: strict adherence to the Britannian Virtues prohibiting the Avatar from pillaging towns for loot; my feud with Henry, who had the jump on its release, pre-Apple ][c, souring any appeal, but would also become the sole fellow member of my many Loser’s Clubs with whom I’d eventually reconcile and keep in touch, for whatever the origin of our disagreement, no one else was involved so it subsided with our stubbornness; oh, and college presenting itself as anything but a time to settle down and make maps of the Stygian Underworld on graph paper.

The country continues to prove the lives of innocents are less important than the guns that are supposed to be helping save them, while I dream of firing upon the approaching enemy with only my fingers and pew-pew sounds when war broke out; they, however, looked armed with working weapons and didn’t fall to my playground rules, so I fled with my comrades. We reached an empty elevator where, just my luck, I found a loaded shotgun, whose sliding stock was strangely located on the opposite side of the trigger but the Resident Evil games otherwise left me familiar enough to yield. And wouldn’t you know, the threat became zombies, which eased my conscience about using it, though I remained concerned that I might be stopped by any authorities we encountered, for its barrel would have been awkward for me to hide in my hoodie’s sleeve. Still, I was now the heavy hitter in my troupe and we drove toward the front line to escort others making their escape from a building behind the main one, which my knowledge of the Austin campus I identified as the “Robert Patterson.” On our way there, we could see some of them walking toward freedom single-file on a ledge.