Modern warfare is released worldwide today, a much anticipated title for xbox and PS3. Two of my three sons have been speaking about it as the sole true heir to Call of Duty also how the new on-line multiplayer gameplay better live up to the hype. I refuse to let either of them queue at 12 midnight for the release of a game that will certainly be given an 18 rating, they won't play it until I've first had a look at it, Hype or no Hype.
Oh yes back in the day, that is the Amstrad day, didn't we enjoy trying to get those dungeon gates to open up while surrounded by sparsely deployed, non the less atmospheric little flickery flame things, many oddly pitched tones and much blank areas punctuated by porous paving .. erm no actually, come to think of it, that just distracted from the right pain that was the repetitious searching for the correct jump spot. All that while hoping it wouldn't crash again (as it often did).
I was contemplating using my invented phrase above as my own epitaph – a poetic tradition. Some day it will be true and remain true for eternity. As a writer I would do anything but write, that is until I begin writing and then inertia shifts and Frost’s ‘poem in its dawning’ idea kicks in. I mention that regularly because for me it really encapsulates crossing a cusp between perfunctory, performative and productive. Beginning really can be the half of a thing. Compositional techniques or knowledge work only when writing. So ‘starting’ is the initial difficulty.
Once my current favorite tune - from Norway !
I've been making little threads of a larger tapestry of thought.
weaving words into a digital poetry in flash
little corners and round bits
just parts and pieces
of a broader
mouse over to distort the text
Reports of Irish demise have not been greatly exaggerated, merely branded on the rear quarters of that bolted horse we once called prosperity.
“Could pass for a quote”
I confine my attention to a small creative bubble for a few days and all sorts of offside news carry-on gets going in the meataverse of ole sod generality. Ireland keep world cup hopes alive by beating Cyprus at soccer. The cats of Kilkenny win the All Ireland Hurling final – see you tube stolentelling news report for the ultimate ‘man-up (with sticks) experience’– Non hurler Ryan Tuberty is reported to have intimated in his first late late show interview that the Taoiseach is a drunk. In the wider world’s narrowing interest – Digra (which may not do for the academic ego – what its near namesake does for sexual prowess) extended some hard critical notions about games. Reminding some here of that the intellectual willy waving that ostensibly passed for debate on the McCarthy Report, – ensuring the same economists, experts and commentators not so much sharpen their knives again as pare their crayons for more lyrical waxing about thee latest edition to our National shelf of self help reports – the 500 plus page report from (Warning next link is to actual large PDF copy of the report which may mess up your memory- computer + yours !) the Commission on Taxation.