1748: Have You Met Ted?

Page_1Finally watched the end of How I Met Your Mother tonight — I’d managed to remain completely unspoiled on exactly what happens in the final two episodes, although I knew that quite a few people were a bit cheesed off about it when it originally aired.

How do I feel? Well, I don’t necessarily feel that it was a bad ending as such, but it did feel like it was somewhat rushed.

Spoilers ahead, obviously.

As Ted’s kids point out in the final moments of the final episode, Ted’s ten-year long story about how he met their mother actually wasn’t about how he met their mother at all: instead, it was about all the other things that happened over the course of his life — events that happened to culminate in him meeting their mother Tracy, having children with her, marrying her and eventually having to say goodbye to her as illness took her from him and the world. (This latter aspect was glossed over disappointingly quickly; there was the potential for some gratuitous but nonetheless effective tearjerking here, and the show blew it somewhat — though in the process it only proved Ted’s kids’ point that the story really wasn’t about Tracy at all.)

In particular, it was a show about relationships. Not just the extremely rocky Ross and Rachel-style “will they, won’t they” nature of the relationship between Ted and Robin — which ultimately reached a somewhat hasty resolution in the very last moments of the last episode, but which nonetheless provided some closure on the overall story — but also the dynamics between the various elements of the whole group.

Marshall and Lily are presented as the most grounded members of the group; they’re already in a relationship when the show begins, and the other characters clearly look up to them as some sort of “gold standard” of what to strive for when seeking a successful relationship with another person. They’re far from perfect, though; they fight, they’re often unreasonable with one another and, in the last couple of seasons in particular, they keep things of such magnitude from one another that it puts the very foundation of their marriage at risk. They always manage to come through, though; ultimately, their role is to provide the stable basis for the rather more chaotic other members of the group.

Barney and Robin’s relationship was an interesting case. Barney falling in love with and eventually wanting to marry Robin was an abrupt about-face for the character, but it demonstrated a certain degree of personal growth on his part, and it was fun to see him struggling between his old life and his new, one-woman future as the final series depicted the last few hours before their wedding day. While their subsequent breakup and divorce in the final episodes acknowledged the fact that even the most fairy-tale of relationships don’t always last even a couple of years — believe me, I know that all too well from firsthand experience — it was a tad disappointing for this aspect, again, to be glossed over somewhat hastily.

As for Ted and Robin, the tension over whether or not they’d ever end up together formed the backbone of the show to a certain degree. While it all being wrapped up neatly with them coming together in the final moments — and, presumably, living happily ever after — was predictable and, to a certain degree, satisfying, I can’t help but find myself wishing that things had gone just a little bit differently.

The ending, I feel, would have been a lot more effective had we seen more of Tracy’s final moments. It’s abundantly clear that, although Ted loved Robin, he genuinely loved Tracy too, and even though she wasn’t directly involved in much of the overall story until towards the end — the fact his kids point out — the show generally did a good job of teasing a few tantalising pieces of information about her as it progressed — the yellow umbrella; the fact she was always out of sight for the longest time; the fact we never found out her name until the final episode. The show did a great job of building up their relationship, of making the audience feel that everything that had come before had somehow led Ted to this moment — Destiny, Fate, whatever you want to call it — and then squandered it somewhat with a throwaway comment about her getting sick, and Ted ending up with Robin.

I’m a sucker for a bittersweet, borderline tragic ending, but I feel it would have made a fitting end to the series; although ostensibly a “sitcom”, the show had more than its fair share of genuinely heartfelt, emotional moments, and the passing of Tracy at the end of the final episode would have proven a fitting finale — and perhaps a way of bringing “the gang” all back together in shared grief after they all go their separate ways following Robin and Barney’s doomed wedding.

Still, I didn’t write the show so it can’t be changed, and overall, despite my criticisms above, I enjoyed the whole thing pretty consistently. It’s definitely one of the strongest American comedies that has been on TV in the last few years; while I’m not sure it’ll ever quite occupy the same place in my heart as Friends does, I’m certainly glad I watched it, and I’m glad it managed to come to conclusion, even if it wasn’t quite the one I would have gone for. It’s just a pity the two-part last episode felt so utterly rushed; while it’s not enough to spoil my memories of the show as a whole, I can understand why some people felt it was a letdown.

Onwards, though; I guess now it’s time to find a new show to watch!

1747: I Still Don’t Care

Page_1Just slightly over two years ago (really quite surprisingly close, now I look at the dates), I pondered the subject of how I Don’t Care about certain social issues.

That particular rant — kind of shocked how little things have changed in two years, to be honest — was inspired by the amount of time certain people spent pontificating on Twitter about how awful certain groups were towards other groups. Whether it was racism, sexism, ableism or any of the other bad -isms, there was always someone on hand to loudly denounce anyone who displayed one or more of these traits as The Worst Person Ever.

I’ve tended to find over the years that the more I find myself seeing the same things said over and over — and the more hyperbolic those things are — the less I’m inclined to care about them, until eventually you cross some sort of apathy event horizon and find yourself feeling completely and utterly unmoved by even the most tragic of human suffering. Desensitisation is very much a real thing — although I’ll qualify that at this stage by saying that I am by no means desensitised to things like violent imagery or things happening to those who are close to me and that I care about.

I was reminded of this feeling today when a friend got in touch and told me about some dude I’d never heard of supposedly sexually assaulting a whole bunch of people, the dodgy things he’d said on Facebook and the rather specific, creepy details that his alleged victims had said independently of one another. Now, I knew that I was probably supposed to feel outraged about this apparent miscarriage of justice, but the fact is, I just couldn’t bring myself to care even a little bit about it. I couldn’t bring myself to Google who this dude I’d never heard of was; I couldn’t bring myself to look at the news stories; it just didn’t matter to me.

And, you know what? I don’t actually think that’s necessarily a bad way to be thinking about things. While it would be nice if all the good people in the world could wave their respective magic wands and make all the bad people’s dicks fall off (where applicable), we all know that isn’t the way things work. And it’s all very well and good and probably morally admirable to get upset on other people’s behalf, but there are an awful lot of bad people out there and only so many hours in the day. I know I’d much rather be concentrating on my own life and the wellbeing of those immediately around me (in social, not necessarily geographical terms) than wasting time — yes, I do think it is a colossal waste of time — getting angry on behalf of people I’ve never met, will likely never meet and have absolutely no means of relating to, helping or indeed having any impact on the lives of whatsoever.

Why do I say this is a good thing? Doesn’t that make me some sort of woman/ethnic minority/disabled person-hating narcissist? Well, no, of course not — although a woman/ethnic minority/disabled person-hating narcissist would say that, wouldn’t they? The simple fact is this: very few people are real “heroes”. Very few of us have the power to make a true difference in the lives of people we’ve had absolutely no contact with whatsoever. And it’s not good for one’s mental health to continually get upset and angry on behalf of everyone who is wronged in the world. I’ve seen one friend go down that road, and frankly they became rather insufferable as a result. More than that, though, it seemed impossible for them to ever be happy, because there was always something new to get upset and angry about; they were perpetually in a state of anguish and fury, because there was no way to fix this broken world we live in. It was heartbreaking to see, and there was nothing I could do to help them.

Ultimately all most of us do is try to be the best people we can be to the people who do matter to each of us: family, friends and the acquaintances we come into contact with on a regular basis through work or other activities. If everyone simply tried to be a bit more excellent towards one another in their own social circles, the world would probably be a much more pleasant place overall.

Unfortunately some people simply appear to be hard-wired to be as un-excellent as possible to the people around them. And that’s not at all cool, but if you have nothing to do with those people, harsh as it may sound, they’re not your problem. They have to either recognise the problems they have themselves and do something about it, or the people who are close to them and care about them have to take action. You, as some random stranger on the Internet, have no influence, no power and, moreover, no real right to interfere with that person’s life. Concentrate on dealing with your own issues, because everyone’s got them to varying degrees, and if you’re one of the lucky few to be in a place of relative contentment? Enjoy it, for fuck’s sake; don’t go looking for trouble.

So, to sum up: I Still Don’t Care. And, I have to say, ditching social media has made it a whole lot easier to do just that. While my own issues mean that I’m still a way off feeling truly, completely 100% happy and content with my own life, I sure feel a lot closer to that ambition than I once was. And, should I ever reach it? I’m damn well going to enjoy every minute of it.

1746: Tomestones of Poetics

Page_1Andie and I have had more of a chance to delve into Final Fantasy XIV’s latest patch Dreams of Ice today, and I’ve now had the chance to jump in to most of the new pieces of playable content, with the exception of the Final Coil of Bahamut (which is still a way off yet) and the Extreme difficulty version of the fight against iconic Final Fantasy character — or the Final Fantasy XIV incarnation of her, anyway — Shiva.

The first couple of days after a patch drops are an exciting, enjoyable time to be playing, because most people who are online at the same time as you are in a similar situation to you — they’re learning new fights without any foreknowledge of what is to come, and with the fact that guides for these new fights tend not to crop up until a week or two after the actual patch drops, you have little option but to either try and figure things out for yourself or trust the word of the people you’re playing with. It’s a lot of fun, puts everyone on a much more level playing field than later in a patch’s lifecycle, and leads to a certain degree of camaraderie as everyone comes together to work out the best ways to take things on.

After two days, we have a few bits and pieces figured out.

We know that the first boss in Sastasha (Hard) has a very powerful attack that hits anyone except the tank, and this can be stunned — though like most enemies in Final Fantasy XIV, it builds up a gradual resistance to Stun if you keep doing it over and over. Instead, it’s important that the healers ensure no-one is afflicted with the “Slime” status effect when this attack comes, as although the attack is powerful, it will never kill you outright; the damage over time from Slime, however, may well finish you off after one of these almost-deadly blows.

We know that the second boss in Sastasha (Hard) is sometimes bugged, but that you can proceed through the fight even if it seems to have frozen up by stopping your attack for a moment.

We have no idea how the final boss in Sastasha (Hard) works, but it seems that killing all the Kraken’s arms prevents it from summoning deadly waterspouts, while keeping out of reach of its tentacles allows you to pelt its head with impunity.

The Sunken Temple of Qarn (Hard) likewise has three interesting bosses. The first is a multi-part boss who seems to go down quickly if you kill his parts in a certain order, ending with the head. He has a habit of summoning nasty quicksand traps for you to be dragged under.

The second Sunken Temple of Qarn (Hard) boss features regular DPS checks, any time it starts casting 100,000 Needles (which actually only does 25,000 damage, disappointingly, but this is still enough to kill even the most well-geared tank). Throughout the fight, he has friends pop up, some of which are simple cannon fodder, one of which is aggro-locked to a random player — often the healer from the look of things — and another of which covers the main boss, protecting it from damage.

The third Sunken Temple of Qarn (Hard) boss is relatively simple mechanics-wise, but enjoyable to play. Essentially you’re playing Waves mode from Geometry Wars 2, avoiding occasional sweeping waves of mummies that run across the battlefield, cursing you if they touch you, while simultaneously trying to batter the boss down to size. Later in the fight, you also have to contend with a line-of-sight attack which also inflicts the curse status on you — get four stacks of this and you temporarily turn into a mummy, running diagonally across the field and potentially afflicting your allies with the curse in the process if they don’t get out of the way.

Snowcloak, meanwhile, is unusual in that it’s actually part of the main story for once — most of the other level 50 dungeons have been unlocked through sidequests. Snowcloak is a part of the main narrative, however, but it still works in much the same way, and again has three interesting bosses to power through, as well as some enjoyable “enemy gauntlets” to fight through.

The first fight in Snowcloak is relatively easy. Like the final boss of Sunken Temple of Qarn (Hard), you’re trying to avoid getting four stacks of a debuff on you — though in this case, it freezes you for a few seconds rather than turning you into a mummy.

The second fight in Snowcloak is becoming known as “Yeti Billiards” because it involves freezing Spriggan adds in the boss’ area-effect attack, then hitting the snowballs this creates back into the boss. Freeze the same snowball more than once and it will grow in size, causing it to deal considerably more damage when it hits the boss.

The third fight in Snowcloak is actually pretty straightforward. You simply have to avoid icicles falling on your head, then spot the two that are going to shoot across the battlefield, injuring anyone in their path, then hide behind the third one before the boss does his group-wide Lunar Cry move, which freezes anyone it has line-of-sight with. There’s a lot of moving around, and it’s a lot of fun — if a little easy once you know what you’re doing.

All this isn’t even getting onto the utterly ridiculous but hugely enjoyable fight against Final Fantasy VI characters Ultros and Typhon, or the conflict against Shiva. There’s been a lot to discover over the last few days, and people are still learning. It’s a fun time to be playing; over time it will settle down into more of a “routine” like in previous patches, but for now, it’s one of those times that, for the most part, tends to show the community at its best, most cooperative and most helpful towards one another.

1745: Dreams of Ice

Page_1Andie and I journeyed all the way back from Aberdeen to Southampton today — a trip that took somewhere in the region of 11 hours altogether. I offered to drive some of the way, but Andie decided that she would be just as comfortable driving as she would be in the passenger seat, so I was relegated to the position of passenger and entertainment-chooser. (We have plumbed the very depths of everything the BBC Radio iPlayer catalogue has to offer.)

We were both quite keen to get back today due to the release of Final Fantasy XIV’s fourth major patch, dubbed Dreams of Ice. This is the penultimate big patch in the series before the full-scale expansion drops next year, and as such the main storyline is starting to build to a climax. Alongside that, one of the principal “side stories” — that of the super-difficult endgame dungeons The Binding Coil of Bahamut — finally comes to an end in this patch, so the most dedicated of raiders can take on what is effectively the game’s “true final boss” with their friends. Meanwhile, there is plenty of other stuff to keep slightly less hardcore players occupied.

I haven’t done everything yet, not by a long shot, and I wasn’t expecting to in the space of a few hours this evening. I have, however, had the opportunity to check out two of the new dungeons — Snowcloak and The Sunken Temple of Qarn (Hard) — and play through roughly half of the new episode of the main storyline. I haven’t yet taken on this patch’s “big fight” against ice queen Shiva, but that’s coming up, and since my friends and I are yet to clear the Second Coil of Bahamut, the Final Coil of Bahamut is probably some weeks or even months away yet.

There’s plenty of new stuff to get stuck into, though, and once the initial excitement of brand-new content has worn off in a few days, there’s a lot of gear to set my sights on. The addition of a new endgame currency (and the retirement of one) has led to a new “tier” of equipment being added to the game, and I’m looking forward to seeing the impact that has on the already spectacular amount of damage that my Black Mage puts out without breaking a sweat. I’m also intending on gearing up my Paladin a decent amount, too, because 1) it’s already catching up with Black Mage and 2) I’m really enjoying the tanking I’ve been doing. With our regular group seemingly putting me in one of the tank roles for the Second Coil of Bahamut, it will probably pay to have some better gear, too, anyway.

But now it is 2:45am and I am very tired. Both Andie and I rallied a bit once we got home and started playing, but now I am abundantly ready to go to sleep and hopefully wake up rather late and reasonably refreshed tomorrow. I have the rest of the week off, so I intend to enjoy it fully by bumming around not doing very much at all except playing Final Fantasy XIV. No change there then, huh?

1744: Congratulations to Cat and John

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It was the wedding of my friends Cat and John today up here in sunny Aberdeen, Scotland. It’s pretty rare to have a horrible wedding — though I’m sure they happen on occasion — but I am, unsurprisingly, pleased to report that it was a jolly nice day, with a pleasantly short ceremony (in which I did indeed read the shit out of the poem I’d been provided with, and was subsequently complimented by all manner of people I’d never met before throughout the rest of the day), a tasty meal that struck a good balance between being posh and actually being edible, and an enjoyable evening of ceilidh music and dancing. (I must confess to not having indulged in much of the dancing, primarily because I don’t really enjoy it but also because my trousers were at risk of falling down partway through Strip the Willow.)

Cat is one of my oldest friends that I’m actually still friends with. She was the first person I ever met at university, and something of a fixture in my life throughout the course of my undergraduate studies. We haven’t seen each other all that much for the last few years — primarily because she lives in a whole other country (yes, Scotland totally counts as being a whole other country) — but it was nice to see her today and it be pretty much like the intervening years simply hadn’t happened; the only difference was that she was wearing a big, impractical dress and had a different surname.

The fact I’m friends with Cat reminds me of one of my secret proudest moments. It may not sound much — particularly if you’re not someone who has suffered with social anxiety — but it was a big deal to me.

Let me explain.

Prior to starting university properly, I had signed up for a pre-term music course, during which I’d have the opportunity to play with members of the university symphony orchestra, as we indulged in some intensive rehearsal and study over the course of a single week, culminating in a performance of Shostakovich’s 5th symphony and Beethoven’s 7th symphony. I had never performed a full symphony before, and here I was preparing to perform two of them after just a week of rehearsal. It was challenging, but fun.

What was more challenging to me, though, was the prospect of meeting new people. I’d already established in my mind at secondary school that I wasn’t quite sure how to go about making new friends or meeting new people, so I was quite nervous about going to university. (I had also contemplated, as I’m sure many people had, making up a cool nickname for myself, but never quite had the guts to go through with lying to potential new friends about what “everyone calls me”.)

So it was that I found myself in the lift after the first day of the music course, heading up to the 15th floor of Stoneham Halls of Residence to get a bit of rest. Also in the lift with me was Cat — although I didn’t know who she was yet, aside from the fact that she was in the string section. As the doors closed, I decided that I was going to bite the bullet and actually try to make a new friend. So I introduced myself. And, as often happens when I take a social “risk” like this, I was surprised to discover that I didn’t die, wasn’t punched in the face and wasn’t showered with acid from my conversational partner inexplicably turning into a giant, acid-spitting snake-like creature. Instead, I found out the name of someone, got to know them a bit and had a ready-made excuse to escape when I reached the 15th floor. Ideal.

Over the early days at university, I came to know Cat quite well. Having grown up in a school where interests were divided quite sharply along gender lines — it was also the days before being a geek was “cool”, although the relatively recent introduction of Sony’s PlayStation meant that situation was changing — it was quite surprising to meet someone of the female persuasion who not only tolerated the presence of video games, but also appeared to be genuinely interested in them. We spent many an hour sitting in my room playing Final Fantasy VIII and Point Blank together — to date, I’m not sure I’d ever be able to name Rinoa anything but “Cat” — and we had a most enjoyable time getting through our music (well, English and music in my case) degrees together.

In short, she’s one of those friends that will almost certainly be a constant presence in my life for many years to come yet, and I’m really happy to see her so happy today. I wish her and John a long and happy life together, and that new life for them starts today.

Thanks for a great day, Mr and Mrs Cowe. Have a very happy life!

1743: Sleepless in Perth

Page_1Andie and I are having a few nights away from home as we head up to Scotland (and back) for my friend Cat’s wedding. Cat lives in Aberdeen, so it’s quite a trek from the south coast, but we’ve made very good progress today — we got up to Perth by mid-afternoon, leaving us just a couple of hours’ drive to do to get to Aberdeen tomorrow.

Tonight we’re staying in a Premier Inn in Perth. I’d always assumed that Premier Inns were cheap-and-cheerful affairs on a similar level to Travelodge’s grotty-but-convenient charms, but I’ve actually been very impressed so far. The room is really nice — the bed is big (if surprisingly high off the floor), there’s a chaise-longue for reclining on (or for allowing a third person to sleep in the room, should that become necessary), the TV is a nice big Samsung HDTV (and even has extra HDMI, composite, audio and USB inputs built into the wall so you can connect your own devices) and the bathroom is pleasantly shiny, albeit somewhat short on pinchable cosmetic goods and sporting a public toilet-style sheet-by-sheet bog roll dispenser rather than regular toilet rolls.

The restaurant is dubbed Thyme and is open to members of the public who aren’t staying in the hotel. Normally I’d question whether or not anyone would ever want to come to a hotel restaurant if they aren’t staying in the hotel, but after most of a day’s worth of driving, Andie and I decided we didn’t really want to go out in search of dinner, so we went to give it a go — and, you know what? It was actually really, really good. Like, surprisingly so; it wasn’t what I’d call “cheap” but it also wasn’t extortionate hotel prices and, more importantly, it was actually excellent quality food: Andie had a frighteningly gigantic burger while I had, I think, the best rack of ribs I’ve ever had. Not bad for a chain restaurant in a cheapo chain hotel.

It’s almost a shame we don’t have more time to spend just relaxing here, though thankfully we did arrive early enough to be able to just chill out for a few hours without feeling like we immediately need to go to bed. It’s always nice to get away from the daily grind and have a bit of a change of scenery now and then, even if you’re not really doing anything specific while you’re away from home.

Of course, tomorrow we are doing something specific — we’re celebrating my friend’s marriage after a couple of hours’ driving — but for tonight, at least, we can just relax and enjoy that holiday-esque feeling of being far away from home in a comfortable room in a strange city. So I’m off to go and do just that, and try not to think about the exceedingly long drive back we have waiting for us on Tuesday!

1742: Reaping Rafflesia

Page_1You may recall a short while ago I talked a little about Turn 5 of the Binding Coil of Bahamut in Final Fantasy XIV, notorious as being one of the most difficult battles in the game and essentially, if you want to look at it that way, the “true final boss” of the game as it existed at launch.

Since clearing that a few times, we’ve managed to get a regular group together to take on the Second Coil of Bahamut, a four-part dungeon that follows on from the original Binding Coil — and which is soon to be superceded by The Final Coil of Bahamut, bringing this particular side story to a close in suitably climactic fashion with patch 2.4.

We’re by no means ready for the Final Coil of Bahamut yet — mainly because you have to clear Second Coil in order to even enter Final Coil — but we’ve been discovering the joy of having a regular, committed and enthusiastic group together to take on challenging fights.

The first Turn of the Second Coil of Bahamut (known in FFXIV vernacular as “Turn 6” or “T6”, since it’s the sixth overall part of the Coil storyline) is deceptively simple, much like the other Coil confrontations. You begin by making your way across some perilous terrain and fending off the unwanted advances of golems that spawn from chunks of dark matter and corrupted crystals. Having fought your way past these — destroying the crystals on the way — you find yourself in front of a fragment of Dalamud, the moon that fell from the sky at the end of Final Fantasy XIV’s version 1.0 incarnation (and, by extension, the beginning of A Realm Reborn) and burst open to reveal the elder primal Bahamut. Over the course of the first Binding Coil of Bahamut, you come to discover some interesting bits and pieces about what Dalamud really was, why Bahamut was inside it and, indeed, what happened to it following the apocalyptic “end of the world” that appeared to happen at the conclusion of 1.0. Second Coil is elsewhere in the lands of Eorzea, and promises to offer further insights into the truth — but, of course, it’s not that easy.

Your main obstacle towards even getting inside the damn place is an unpleasant little thing called Rafflesia, a plant from the Gridanian Twelveswood that has been corrupted by dark matter and which now appears to be a tad on the pissed off side. You ain’t getting inside the Dalamud fragment without getting past Rafflesia, and thus begins another extremely challenging battle that our group is yet to clear — but which we’ve made significant progress on in our two attempts to date.

Like the previous encounters in the various Turns of the Coil, the battle against Rafflesia initially appears to be extremely complex and insurmountably difficult, but in reality it’s all about being organised, communicating effectively and knowing how to deal with the various situations in which you find yourself.

Shortly after the fight begins, Rafflesia whips two party members with thorny vines, which attaches them together and continues to do damage as long as they remain joined. The only escape from this spiky fate is to run in opposite directions until the vine is snapped.

The plant monster then goes on to spawn dark matter bulbs, deadly seedlings that sprout into spiky briar patches that slow the movement of anyone unfortunate enough to step into them. A key part of this battle comes in the management of these briar patches; our attempts involved keeping Rafflesia as central as possible and only worrying about bulbs if they appeared where Rafflesia was. This occasionally demands that you dance around a little to make sure you’re not standing in thorns, but it does allow you to concentrate on what you’re really there for — punching/stabbing/burning/chopping a plant monster to death.

Rafflesia is a hungry beast, though, and every so often a party member will find themselves the target of the monster’s appetite. She’ll suck in everything in front of her, then devour it before spitting it out again; ideally, by the time she’s doing the first thing, you’re well out of the way, ensuring that the second and third things don’t happen to you.

Rafflesia, being a plant, also has numerous unpleasant spores and gases designed for the obliteration of unsuspecting adventuring parties. Most deadly among these is her Blighted Bouquet, a devastating move which causes immediate death to anyone unfortunate enough to have been doing anything — moving, attacking, using an ability — when it goes off. She’s also fond of glazing a party member in honey, which causes dark matter-corrupted hornets to come in and give the unfortunate adventurer some unwanted attention — and eventual death, if they’re not defeated, too.

So far, we’re yet to defeat Rafflesia; her Blighted Bouquet and dark matter hornets have proven particularly troublesome to deal with, but we’ve made honest-to-goodness progress in the two sessions of about 2.5-3 hours each that we’ve had to take on the fight to date. Along the way, we’ve come to work well together as a party, too, and the desire is there from all of us to continue the fight against Rafflesia, onwards into the fragment of Dalamud and, eventually, into the Final Coil of Bahamut to discover the truth behind the Calamity. (And, of course, to get some sweet loot in the process, too.)

I’ve been really enjoying our sessions so far; as I’ve noted before, Final Fantasy XIV is the first MMO that not only maintained my attention from beginning to level cap, but which has kept me interested with its endgame, too. Second Coil is, as of now, the most challenging dungeon in the game — though this will change on Tuesday when Final Coil arrives — and it’s a pleasure to be able to take on these tough encounters with a group of people who are becoming not just online comrades, but friends, too.

1741: Shareware

Page_1I was interested and excited earlier to hear that 3D Realms had come out of sort-of-retirement to unleash a pretty spectacular package onto the world: an anthology containing a fantastic selection of its games from over the years, going right back to its early days as Apogee — a time when men were men, women were women and PC games ran in four-colour CGA.

I probably don’t have to tell you that I didn’t hesitate to hand over the $20 for the complete collection of 32 games — many of these games were fixtures on my home PC while I was growing up, and even more of them were titles that I never got around to playing at the time for whatever reason. A surprising number of them hold up pretty well today, more to the point, and with the Anthology package updating them to run just peachy on modern Windows systems as well as providing rudimentary controller support, it’s a great time to rediscover these great games.

Of the 32 games, I had heard of most of them — though a couple, like Arctic Adventure and Pharaoh’s Tomb, were new ones on me. I’d played a decent number of them, too; particular favourites from the past included the Commander Keen games, Raptor: Call of the Shadows, Shadow Warrior and, of course, Duke Nukem 3D. I’m pleased that the collection offers the opportunity to rediscover somewhat lesser-known titles like Bio Menace and Terminal Velocity, too; both of these were games that I only ever played the limited shareware versions of “back in the day” and was always curious to see how they developed in their full, registered versions. This being the mostly pre-Internet days, however, it wasn’t as simple as just clicking “buy” on a game and having it on your computer moments later.

I really liked the shareware model, and I’m actually surprised it’s not used as much these days, since the Internet would seem to provide an ideal delivery medium for this sort of thing. For those unfamiliar, a shareware game could be distributed for free, and generally provided a full and satisfying game experience in its own right. It would usually only form the first “episode” of a fuller experience, however, and to see how the story concluded — or simply have the opportunity to acquire new weapons and fight new enemies — you’d have to pony up the cash for the full, or “registered” version. In some cases, you had the option to purchase some of the game instead of all of it — Wolfenstein 3D, for example, featured six episodes, the first of which was free, the second and third could be purchased as a bundle, and the fourth, fifth and sixth episodes could be purchased as a separate bundle. Or, of course, you could buy the whole lot in one go.

The closest equivalent we have these days is, I think, the “episodic” games that companies like Telltale put out, but they’re not quite the same; although there are sometimes special offers or even giveaways of the first episode, the game isn’t built around the assumption that the first episode is not only free, but also freely distributable. That “share” part was important — you were actively encouraged to share the free episode with family and friends, and in that way these games built up a very early means of viral popularity, without the Internet to support it. Kids were already illegally copying games and sharing them with one another in the playground, after all; all shareware was doing was legitimising this to a certain extent — though I don’t doubt that a few dodgy copies of registered versions probably did the rounds, too.

Sony sounds like it’s trying some interesting “sharing” functionality with the PlayStation 4, but it’s still not quite the same. Perhaps I’m just being nostalgic and looking back on it with rose-tinted glasses, but I do know one thing for sure: I have very fond memories of a lot of these games, and a surprising number of them still hold up very well today.

If you’d like to try them out for yourself, you can grab a copy of the complete Anthology here, or download and purchase some of the games individually if you prefer.

1740: It’s Not Friday

Page_1This week has been incredibly long. I mean, obviously it hasn’t been any longer than a week normally is (about a week) but it’s felt that way.

Most of this can be attributed to a couple of reasons: firstly, that the place where I usually park my car to go to work (about a 10 minute walk from the office) has been full all week and thus I’ve had to park about half an hour’s walk away instead — not a journey I particularly want to do in the dark of the evening — and secondly, I’ve been having to work an extra hour each day in order to make sure that I actually get suitably compensated (i.e. overtime) for the overnight shenanigans I participated in a few nights ago.

That extra hour makes quite a difference. It doesn’t sound like much, but then when I think about how tired and “I just want to go home”-ish I am at the end of a regular working day, then extend it by a not-insignificant proportion, it’s perhaps unsurprising that the trudge back to the car (almost inevitably in the wind and light drizzle at this time of year — not to mention the dark by the time I get out) is more depressing than any Walk of Shame I’ve ever done. (Not that I’ve done many, to be perfectly frank.)

Time is fluid; I’m utterly convinced of it. I’ve seen it this week, with that last hour seeming to last an eternity and the week, consequently, stretching on for far longer than it normally seems to. And this isn’t the first time I’ve observed it, either; the first time I ever observed this phenomenon was during a German lesson at secondary school where a friend and I happened to comment that German lessons seemed to last twice as long as any other lesson despite actually being the same length. (I set the countdown timer on my digital watch to make it look like time was actually going backwards, which got a good laugh, then got us put into detention for talking when we should have been quiet. Worth it.)

The old saying is, of course, “time flies when you’re having fun” and, frustratingly, it seems to be true. Do something fun and enjoyable and before you know it, it’s time to get up/go to bed/check out/go back to work/put the paddle away. Do something mind-numbingly tedious and time will slow to an almost-standstill. Do something fairly neutral — like, say, going to work — and you’ll find that time probably flows at its normal rate, but compared to the “fun” rate, it seems excruciatingly slow.

Anyway. Regardless of all that nonsense, there’s only one day left in this working week, and then a nice relaxing Saturday awaits. Following that, a solid day of driving up to Scotland awaits, which I’m not looking forward to at all, but the reason we’re going — my friend Cat’s wedding in Aberdeen on Monday — will be worth it. (Hopefully, anyway. I’m doing a reading. I will read the shit out of that poem, just you wait and see.)

For now, then, I think an early night ready to take on the week’s grand finale. What joy will Friday bring? Find out tomorrow, only on your favourite* directionless daily blog!

* Readers are free to find other sites their “favourite” if they wish.

1739: Birthday Cake

Page_1It’s my colleague’s birthday tomorrow. She’s bringing in cake — or, more likely, doughnuts, since most of our team is currently scattered far and wide (two of them on another site, one of them on holiday) — because That Is What’s Done Now.

Both she and I discussed this today, and neither of us were sure where this strange tradition came from — but tradition it seemingly is: when it’s your birthday, you are the one who has to bring cake in.

This seems completely counter-intuitive to me, particularly as birthdays are typically accompanied by people buying you a card and, if you’re actually liked by your colleagues and peers, a present or two as well. Is it that unreasonable for the one mourning the passage of another year to expect to be treated to a cake as well?

Apparently so. This is one of those traditions that has sprung up over the last few years and seemingly hasn’t been questioned by anyone. It’s not difficult to understand why: say “no,” you’re not bringing in cake for everyone, and you’re left looking like an asshole, even though, as previously mentioned, it should really be everyone else bringing in cake for you and you alone.

I’m just curious who the first person was to demand that someone celebrating a birthday should bring in cake for everyone. I wonder what response they got. I can only assume a positive one, leading to the situation we’re in now.

Of course, there’s probably another reason why this tradition keeps holding on: it’s actually quite nice to share things, and your birthday is a good opportunity to do so. You get to keep the cool presents for yourself, but cake is an easy means of making people like you, particularly if it’s some sort of awesome cake (or, indeed, box of doughnuts) and not, say, something boring like a fruit cake or a sponge without anything in or on it. (Not that there’s anything wrong with either of those things per se; a birthday is simply a good opportunity to show off your immaculate/questionable taste in cakes, so Mr Kipling just isn’t going to cut it here, Bucko.)

For the last few years, since I’ve been working from home, this hasn’t been an issue for me. Now I’m working in an office, however, it seems I’ll be expected to participate in this sort of silliness or risk being ostracised by my colleagues and peers. (That’s an exaggeration, of course; from what I know of my colleagues and peers they probably wouldn’t ostracise someone over something as petty as cake, though my immediate team does really like cake, so probably best to be safe anyway.)

Still, I won’t complain, because that means when other people’s birthdays roll around, I get free cake. And other people’s birthdays happen more often than my birthday. Which means more cake for everyone.

Oh. Oh. I think I see why this happens now.