Tag: oneaday

#oneaday, Day 284: M25? More Like... Hell... 25?

There are many famous roads in the world. The Champs Elysees in Paris (or however you spell it… I have no idea where the accents go and also have no idea how to type accents on my netbook). That really dangerous road they drove along in Top Gear. Yungas Road. I knew that and totally didn't Google it.

But there's one road you won't find in the tourist guides, but it's a well-known road to British motorists. It's a name which strikes fear into the heart of motorists from Land's End to John O'Groats.

It is the M25, the Devil's Road, also known as the London Orbital. For the uninitiated (or American) amongst you, this is a motorway (freeway) which runs around the perimeter of London (capital of England) and goes round and round and round and round. In theory, this sounds like fun. Who doesn't like driving laps around things?

Unfortunately, the M25 is the single most frustrating road in all of Britain to drive on, largely due to the fact that despite it being (sometimes) one of the widest roads in Britain it is also one of the fullest. Particularly if they're digging it up. Which they always are.

Couple this with the inexplicable "variable speed limit" section ("You must drive at 60! Now 50! Now 40! Now 60 again! Now 70! Go wild! Oh! 50! Got you! SPEED CAMERA.") and you have a road which is infuriating, frustrating and capable of producing some of the most creative expletives on the planet.

Particularly if you drive on it at rush hour, as I did tonight. And Rush Hour on the M25 lasts for approximately six hundred years and features a time distortion allowing six hundred years to take place in the space of a single day. You could read War and Peace in the time it takes you to get from Heathrow Airport to Staines at rush hour.

So fuck the M25. Fuck it right in its stupid ass (somewhere around the Dartford Tunnel) and find another route. Seriously. If you need to go from somewhere north of London to somewhere that is in a different compass direction from London, then for God's sake avoid the hell out of London. Because for all its good points, London and its surrounding suburbs hate cars. HATE them. They want them to die. And they think that everyone who drives a car should die too, or at least pay considerable amounts of money for the privilege of driving a car.

Which is probably for the best, given that without the various tolls and "congestion charges" in place, London would be more backed-up than an old, constipated man's bowels. I mean, more than it is already.

This has been a Public Service Announcement on behalf of the Highways Agency, who also think you should fuck the M25 in its stupid ass, which is why they keep smacking it with hammers and diggers. In, you know, an attempt to, like, get at its ass. Or something.

I don't know. A 2.5 hour journey took me nearly 6 hours tonight. So my brain is addled. I think it's time to drink Cherry Coke and scrounge a satay chicken skewer. Good night!

#oneaday, Day 283: The Brown Wasteland

I love the Fallout series a lot more than I think. Any time I've spent a protracted amount of time away from them, the only thing I remember about them is the colour brown. Brown brown brown everywhere. Depressing brownness. Wasteland. Dead things. Brown. Dirt. Dust. Oh the dust.

But then I go and play one—in this case, latest entry Fallout: New Vegas—and I remember that life in the wastelands of post-apocalyptic America isn't just brownness and dead things. Amidst all the death, destruction, doom, depression and other words beginning with D, there's a lot to discover. There's life—only some of which is out to kill you—and there's humour. And there's an interesting narrative with some deep lore, too.

New Vegas is one of those games that draws you in without realising it and before you know it, several hours have passed. There's something about the world, the characters in it and the situations you find yourself in that just keep you wanting to explore, just to see what's around the next corner, over the next ridge.

And the thing I like most about New Vegas, like Fallout 3 and Oblivion before it, is that if you see something off in the distance and think "I wonder what that is?" then you can just walk your way over there and investigate for yourself. And the world is set up in such a way to encourage you to do this.

New Vegas, as it happens, is a huge improvement over Fallout 3. It's difficult to pin down exactly why this is. Is it the new survival sim "Hardcore Mode", where you have to keep your character fed, hydrated and rested as well as free of radiation and life-threatening injuries? Is it the interesting plot, which teases you with clues dangling on hooks just out of reach and then proceeds to distract you with OH LOOK ROBOTS AND GHOULS AND WON'T YOU HELP US, STRANGER?

Perhaps it's the new Companion system, where you can explore the wasteland as a party of up to three—your character, another human and a robot or animal. This certainly makes an enormous difference—for starters, travelling with a trained sniper means that enemies are often taken out long before they get anywhere near me. This is good, because my character sucks at gunplay. Then each companion has a plotline to follow and their own interesting little quirks. The robot I'm travelling with at present, for example, doesn't speak but blasts out recorded military marches whenever it enters combat. This is inexplicably hilarious.

Or perhaps it's just the chance to get back into another meaty RPG where you're not shunted down a linear path to an inevitable conclusion. The Fallout series has always been about exploration and thinking "what would I do if I was in this situation?" Morals sometimes go out of the window in the wasteland, and there's plenty of interesting choices to make throughout the course of the game's quests.

The game's much-publicised bugginess hasn't reared its head very much since I've been playing. I've had two freezes, but these weren't a real problem because 1) I'd been playing so long it was probably time to stop and 2) the auto-save system (at least on the 360) meant that I hadn't lost any progress. I'm sure there are other bugs out there to be discovered, but frankly, nothing has spoiled my enjoyment of the game so far.

So if you're the slightest bit interested in seeing how you would take on the perils of survival in the wasteland, Fallout: New Vegas comes highly recommended.

#oneaday, Day 282: If You Hold Down The [CANCEL] Button To Run (Earlier Marked [X])

(Fifty Epic Win points if you know where the title of this post came from.)

Yes, it's another running-related post, so soon after the last one… I know, I know. But I wanted to share this as it seems I was a little inaccurate with my description of the Couch 2 5K programme last time I talked about it.

I was surprised to discover as I fired up the GetRunning iPhone app today that Week 5 Day 2 is not, in fact, the same as Week 5 Day 1. I thought there was some mistake when I saw that I would be running for two lots of eight minutes today. But no, it turns out that it was, in fact, correct. And the fact that on Thursday I have to run for twenty minutes non-stop is also, in fact, correct. Scary.

To prevent staleness of posts, I now present to you tonight's run in the form of the output from a text-based adventure/RPG game, circa 1987.

—

West Street

You're standing outside your house. It's pretty dark, and pretty cold.

The street runs to the northeast and southwest.

A voice from the iPhone in your pocket indicates that you should start walking in order to warm up.

>INVENTORY

You are carrying:
thermals
torch (off)
iPhone (on)

>TURN ON TORCH

The light of the torch illuminates the area around your feet, but little else. It should be enough to see where you're going, at least.

>NE

You're about to start walking when a chill blast of air hits you in the face.

You are afflicted with cold.
You take 5 damage from cold.

>EQUIP THERMALS

Thermals: equipped.

Cold resistance +50.

You are no longer afflicted with cold.

>NE

You set off at a brisk walk.

T-Junction

You have reached the point where three roads—West Street, Eltisley Road and Fox Street—meet.

Eltisley Road runs to the northeast. West Street runs to the southwest. Fox Street runs to the southeast.

>SE

You continue walking.

Fox Street

This street houses the one and only shop in the village, and also one of the few lamp-posts that illuminate the silent streets.

The road continues to the southeast. There is a T-junction to the northwest.

>SE

You continue walking.

Crossroads

You're at the point where four streets meet. There's a sign on a small mound showing the name of the village and arguably its most distinguishing feature, the ancient windmill.

Fox Street runs to the northwest. Caxton Road runs to the northeast. Middle Street runs to the southwest. East Street runs to the southeast.

You feel a bit warmer.

>NE

Caxton Road

This road is home to some new housing developments and as such has more streetlamps than the rest of the village combined. There's a fishing pond by the side of the road which is somewhat difficult to see. You're glad you brought a torch that actually works.

The road continues to the northeast. The crossroads is to the southwest.

A voice from the iPhone in your pocket indicates that you should start running now… for eight minutes. That sounds like an awful lot. You'd better be careful to pace yourself.

>NE

The disembodied voice told you you should run.

>NE

The disembodied voice told you you should run.

>RUN NE

You set off at a brisk run.

Industrial Estate

For such a tiny village, the industrial estate is surprisingly well-populated by a variety of businesses. They are all closed for the night now, but bright orange and white lights illuminate the courtyard of the estate.

Caxton Road runs northeast and southwest. The industrial estate itself continues to the southeast.

>NE

You continue running.

You lose 5 fatigue points.

Recreation Ground

There's a large sports field here that, during the day, is typically home to team sports such as football. It's also been known to play host to some pretty epic Blues and Soul music shows in a giant marquee in the past.

Caxton Road runs northeast and southwest. The football pitch is to the southeast.

>NE

You continue running.

You lose 5 fatigue points.

You are beginning to feel a little breathless.

Dark Road

It's pretty dark down here. You can see a house by the side of the road, but it's clear the occupants are either out or in bed as there's no light emanating from it. The only light you can see is the fairly pathetic beam from your torch.

Caxton Road runs northeast and southwest. Another road branches off to the south.

>S

You continue running.

You lose 5 fatigue points.

You are tired.

Sand Road

It's dark down here, and there are no distinguishing features save a smell of horse shit in the air.

Sand Road continues to the southwest, or Caxton Road lies to the north.

>SW

You continue running.

You lose 5 fatigue points.

You are knackered.

A voice from the iPhone in your pocket indicates that you can stop running and should walk for five minutes. You feel a sense of relief.

Sand Road, Civilised End

This end of Sand Road has a few houses and even a few streetlamps glowing with a bright orange light to illuminate your way. The smell of horse shit is fainter here.

Sand Road continues into darkness to the northeast. A brightly-lit crossroads lies to the southwest.

>SW

You walk, legs slightly wobbly.

You regain 5 fatigue points.

You are tired.

Brightly-Lit Crossroads

This crossroads is illuminated by a bright white streetlamp which gives the illusion of brilliant moonlight. Roads lead in four directions.

Mill Road drops down a hill to the southeast. East Street runs to the northwest. Sand Road leads northeast. Church Street bends off into darkness to the southwest.

>SW

You walk, legs slightly wobbly.

You regain 5 fatigue points.

You are no longer breathless.

A voice from the iPhone in your pocket indicates that you should start running.

>RUN SW

You set off at a run, your legs a bit stiffer than before.

Church Street

Church Street is not especially well-lit, but you can just make out the fact it bends around a sharp corner.

The road continues to the west. A gate leads into thick darkness to the south.

>S

You continue running.

You lose 5 fatigue points.

You are tired.

Churchyard

The churchyard by night is a place of solitude and quiet reflection. It's also pitch dark, making it a bit creepy. Fortunately, your torch is holding out for the moment.

A path leads through the churchyard and down a hill into even thicker darkness to the south. Church Street is to the north. The church itself is to the southwest.

>S

You continue running.

Running downhill is easier.

You lose 2 fatigue points.

You are tired.

Inky Blackness

Beyond the churchyard, trees and bushes surround the path, cutting off all sources of light bar your torch. You can hear the sound of running water from somewhere.

By the light of your torch, you can see that the path leads up a shallow hill to the south. The churchyard lies up a steep hill to the north.

>S

You continue running.

Running uphill is hard. This hill is steeper than it looked a moment ago.

You lose 10 fatigue points.

You are knackered.

Horse Field

You're on a narrow path that slopes gently upwards to the south and back down towards the churchyard to the north. A thin rope fence surrounds the path. In the darkness just beyond the fence, you can just make out a few horses grazing in the fields.

The path continues up a gentle slope to the south, or back downhill to the north.

>S

You continue running.

Running uphill is hard. This hill is steeper than it looked a moment ago.

You lose 10 fatigue points.

You are completely knackered.

A voice from the iPhone in your pocket indicates that you should stop running.

You've done it! That's two eight-minute runs! Now all you have to do is walk home.

** YOUR ADVENTURE IS OVER **

Would you like to (R)estart, (L)oad a saved game or (Q)uit?

>Q

C:\>_

#oneaday, Day 281: Call Me "Beast Man"

Nicknames are curious things, and there are relatively few opportunities in one's life to either acquire them or get rid of them. Many of them are set in place at school and then promptly lost. Those who move away and go to university then have a once-in-a-lifetime chance to introduce themselves as "I'm Pete, but you can call me 'Bulldog'" or something similar. The only other times you get to do this are when you start a new job, or move to a new area. And even then, coming up with a nickname for yourself always seems somewhat… well, douchey.

The best nicknames emerge organically; they just happen. And then, good or bad, you're stuck with it amongst one group of people for a very long time.

I have three nicknames. One of these ("Angry Jedi") was self-chosen—well, technically, it was a joint effort between me and the buddy I was teacher training with at the time. We were called "Angry Jedi" collectively, as our preferred method of stress relief after a tough day at the chalkface was to compose bizarre sample-based music, and of course we needed a name under which to "release" these tracks. We fell out of touch, and I've been using "Angry Jedi" or variants around the Internet ever since. Except on Xbox LIVE, where some asshole got there first.

"Angry Jedi" was actually the latest nickname I acquired, however. I have two earlier ones which still get rolled out occasionally when I'm with a specific group of people.

The first of these—"Helmu"—came about when I went to the Edinburgh Festival with the Southampton University Theatre Group in 2000. We were taking Turgenev's tragic love story "A Month In The Country" up to the Festival Fringe and performing it in the open air in Edinburgh's botanical gardens. The play went well but was something of a commercial flop—well, you try convincing people that sitting outside in the cold Scottish weather to watch a "tragic Russian love story" is what they want to do, when there's a lot of comedy on in the warm with bars nearby—but the nickname "Helmu" was nothing to do with the play itself. No, instead it was to do with one of our evening's activities. Someone had had the foresight to bring a PlayStation with them (the original PSX, oh yes indeed) including a copy of Track & Field. I elected to play as Germany, and as everybody knows, the most amusing name in the Deutsche Grosse Kindernamebuch is Helmut. So I chose to call my character "Helmut". Unfortunately there weren't enough letters, so my player was known as "Helmu". This name then stuck for the next ten years.

The second name was also the work of the Southampton University Theatre Group. "Beast Man". Yes, I have the dubious honour of being occasionally referred to as a character from He-Man. The reason for my being dubbed "Beast Man" was due to my role co-directing a production of Twelfth Night for the group. At least, I was originally co-directing it with my friend Krissie. However, one day I got an email from Krissie saying that she was off snowboarding and would I mind awfully directing the whole play?

I had never directed a play before. The experience caused a not-inconsiderable amount of stress, which manifested itself as forgetting to shave and occasionally bleeding copiously from the nose. Both of these things were seen as somewhat Beastly, as my unshaven visage bore something of a resemblance to this gentleman here, albeit somewhat less ginger.

This nickname also stuck for the next ten years. Although I can't say it isn't strangely satisfying to be greeted by ex-members of the Theatre Group as "Ah! Beast!"

So how about you lot? Some of you out there have usernames that obviously mean something to you. C'mon, share some stories. OH GO ON. I'll give you cake*.

* offer of provision of cake subject to withdrawal at any time.

#oneaday, Day 280: Run, Jedi, Run

So I know you're dying to know how my running is going. What's that? You aren't? Well tough luck, sonny, I'm going to tell you anyway.

For those of you joining me in this post… first of all, welcome HELLOTO YOUHUGSANDKISSES and secondly… I've been following the Couch 2 5K running programme for the last 5 weeks. This programme, originally recommended to me by the fine example of gentlemanhood that is Mr Calin Grajko, aims to get lazy bastards up and running a 5K in the space of nine weeks. It does this by doing a gradually-intensifying programme of walks and runs.

The programme starts with you running for 1 minute, then walking for 1.5 minutes, 8 times. The second week gets you running for 1.5 minutes, then walking for 2 minutes, 6 times. The third week has you alternating running 1.5 minutes and walking for 1.5 minutes, then running 3 minutes and walking 3 minutes, twice. The fourth week, which I've just completed, sees you alternating running 3 minutes and walking 1.5 minutes, then running 5 minutes and walking 2.5 minutes, twice. And this week, which I've just returned from the first run of, sees me running for 5 minutes and walking for 3 minutes, three times.

As you can see, the programme gradually increases in intensity a little bit at a time. It's paced so well that if you stick with it, the actual relative difficulty of each week remains the same. So while you may be panting and wheezing after the first run of week 1, it'll seem like a cakewalk by the time you're running for 5 minute bursts in week 5. It's excellent motivation because it lets you see exactly how much you're improving. When I think back to the end of September, when I started, there's no way I could have even contemplated running for 5 minutes at a time. Even the 1 minute runs of the first week were a daunting prospect. But now, a minute of running is child's play.

This is partly due to improved stamina and partly due to you getting to know your body a bit better (in a non-masturbatory sense) and being aware of your limits. As you become aware of said limits, you learn to pace yourself effectively to be able to carry yourself through each zone of intense exercise.

And sure, I'm still slow as hell, but it doesn't matter, because it's giving me a workout and I can feel it having an effect. At the beginning of week 1, I was slow and incapable of running for more than a minute at a time. Now, at the beginning of week 5, I may still be slow, but I can keep it going for some time. Once the stamina is there, the speed can be worked on.

I have to say, the use of gadgetry to help with all this has been a key motivational factor. My iPhone comes with me on every run, along with the RunKeeper and Get Running apps. RunKeeper keeps track of your time, pace, distance and draws a handy map of your route. This will come in particularly handy once I'm trying to improve speed rather than stamina. In the meantime, it's a means of drawing geographical penises across Google Maps.

Get Running is the key app, though, and I've mentioned it before on here, I know, but it's worth talking about again. It's a very simple app, being essentially a glorified stopwatch, but it's put together so elegantly and produced so slickly that it's an excellent aid to the inherent motivation of the Couch 2 5K programme. The recorded coaching is delivered with feeling and makes you feel like you have an actual trainer with you, encouraging you and spurring you on to the next milestone. It reminds you how far you've come since the beginning at the end of each session, tells you at just the right moment that you have "only a minute of running left" and so on. It's a really excellent app and comes highly recommended to anyone interested in following the programme.

So that's that. Exercise without an expensive gym membership to worry about. All it cost was the price of a simple iPhone app which, if you've got a stopwatch, you don't even need. Plus it's an excuse to get out and about and explore your area, which is a particularly pleasant thing to do out in the countryside.

So wish me luck in the next few weeks of the programme as I get ever-closer to the elusive 5K. It seems a long way off now but, given the progress I've made so far, it certainly seems to be within reach.

#oneaday, Day 279: Saturday Drivers

I don't know why anyone bothers to try and do anything on a Saturday, particularly if doing said thing involves riding in a car for any length of time.

"Why's that?" I hear you ask.

"Well," I say, "it's to do with traffic."

When asked to elaborate, I elaborate on the fact that traffic gets bloody everywhere on a Saturday, but particularly in the various town centres of the UK. Everyone decides that Saturday is "shopping day", which makes a certain amount of sense, given that normal people (i.e. not unemployed scrotes like me) are normally working throughout the course of the week. But to this I respond "why not Sunday? What's wrong with Sunday?"

It's a fair question, I feel. Although the opening hours of most shops are shorter on Sundays, opening later and closing earlier, there is, these days, otherwise nothing to distinguish the experience of shopping on a Sunday in a town centre to shopping on a Saturday. Sure, there may be more people coming and going from church. If you happen to be passing by a church, of course. Which, let's face it, shopping centres aren't known for being built in close proximity to.

The net result of all this trafficky nonsense on a Saturday, of course, is that any time you actually want to get something done that involves passing through (or even near) a town centre on a Saturday, you had better budget at least twice as much time as you think you need. Because a good 50% of your journey will be spent staring at another car's arse wondering if you'll ever see your home again. I experienced the joy of this today, with a trip into Eastleigh town centre earlier in the day (Eastleigh being a town remarkable for featuring a road layout designed by someone who has no idea how big a car is) and later a trip to Southampton (jammed solid) to pick up my friend Tom in order to give him a lift to my other friend Sam's in Winchester. Oddly enough, Winchester, which is usually a traffic-infested hellhole thanks to being a medieval city that wasn't really designed with cars in mind, and features a Gowalla spot for the traffic jam which occurs every day like clockwork between 5 and 7pm, was pretty clear. Result.

The above isn't just limited to town centres, either. Anyone who has ever had the pleasure of driving on the crown jewel of Britain's road system, the M25, will be well familiar with this feeling. Except on the M25 you don't even have any interesting towny sights to enjoy while you're stuck behind a million other cars that stretch off to the horizon with no obvious reason for stopping dead on a road designed for driving at 70mph. No, you have concrete, and other cars. And trucks. And that's about it. Not fun. At all. Better hope there's something good on the radio, or at least that you have some entertaining content on your iPod.

So basically, my advice to you? If it's Saturday, then just stay in. You don't need to go out. Just stay in. Catch up on TV. Watch a DVD. Play a lengthy video game. Listen to some music. Read a book.

Anything. Anything but go for a drive.

#oneaday, Day 278: Trippin' on Kids' TV

Children's TV is weird. Anyone who has turned on the TV in the mid-afternoon recently will be familiar with this fact. As we speak, I am watching the end of CBeebies. (There is a child present, I hasten to add.) In the last half an hour, I have borne witness to talking trains (some of which can fly, making their rails somewhat redundant), a lion who drives a train and is best friends with a Brummie camel that is made of upholstery, a selection of small furry creatures with massive eyes who do yoga and, right now, a selection of hallucinogenic creatures and wooden Asian people with big moustaches.

None of it makes any sense!

That's the cry that goes up regularly from critics of modern children's TV, of course, along with the old favourite "where's the educational value in that?" Most people over a certain age will inevitably follow this with "it was much better when I was a kid".

Was it, though? Sure, we had shows like Blue Peter and Knowhow (memorable for being the only show I know of that featured a poo in a lunchbox) that at least had pretensions of being educational. But then we had things like The Clangers and Trap Door which, while awesome, made little to no sense at the best of times.

I wonder where the assumption that "kids like weird shit" came from. Because it's been around almost as much as television itself. From the "flobbadobbadob" of Bill & Ben, Flower Pot Men back in the days of black and white telly to the hallucinogenic mayhem that is In The Night Garden (presently featuring a group of three odd creatures cleaning their non-existent teeth in harmony with a hoedown-style piece of music), it seems that weirdness has forever been a staple part of children's televisual entertainment. Perhaps it's something to do with children having more active imaginations, a skill which many people sadly lose as they grow older. Perhaps adults should get more in the way of weird, surreal programming to enjoy.

Except we do, of course. It's just sometimes not as obvious. But try explaining that animé film you just watched to someone unfamiliar with the genre. Or anything from the sci-fi oeuvre. Or some of the more out-there sketch shows out there.

But if you truly want to enjoy the experience of taking a selection of hallucinogenic drugs without all that pesky illegality (not to mention a handy "off" switch if it gets a bit bad-trippy) then you could certainly do far worse than switching over to the CBeebies channel (or, if you're looking for something a little stronger, the frankly terrifying BabyTV) and tuning your brain out for an hour or two.

Me? I'll stick to shows where teenage girls kick the asses of vampires whilst dealing with their own angst, thanks.

#oneaday, Day 277: Boobies

The title of this post was suggested to me as I was suffering slight writers' block due to being in a room with a number of other people, some of whom are playing Modern Warfare 2, others of whom are listening to the Mortal Kombat soundtrack. Which, in itself, is pretty awesome, but isn't exactly the most conducive environment for nurturing the best of one's creativity. The post itself will not be about boobies. Unless I really can't think of anything else to write about.

Mmm, boobies… Sorry, where was I?

So I thought I'd go a bit stream-of-consciousy for tonight. I haven't done that for a while. This isn't proper full-on freewriting, 'cause I'm not starting the timer and writing for a set number of minutes. But I am writing things as they come into my head. Which is nice. It also means that I might go off on something of a tangent as I – oh look, there's a badger with a gun, do you see?

I am currently drinking grape soda, which I'm sure I have had before and liked but had forgotten quite how much it tasted like Calpol – the nice purple stuff you have when you're a little kid, not the foul and disgusting pink stuff you get when you're over the age of six (the imaginatively-named "Calpol Six-Plus", fact fans). For those of you reading in American, Calpol was, for a long time (and possibly still) the generic "cure-all" medicine for children. I have no idea what was in it that made boo-boos go away, but for kids it is very much the equivalent of the fantasy RPG "cure-all potion" that restores hit points and, if it's a fancy-pants version that costs more than 50 gold a time, sometimes cures status effects.

What was I saying? Nothing much at all, really. This is perhaps not my best work. But, you know, you work with what you've got. And I'm currently full of pizza and Calpol-flavoured fizzy stuff, surrounded by people I like very much indeed and so frankly, I'm more than happy with this post reflecting the pleasant feelings of "Ahh…" that I'm enjoying right at this moment. Regular followers of this blog since I started the whole #oneaday thing will know that it's been quite a while since I've been able to really sit back, enjoy myself and make a contented-sounding noise like "Ahh…" so I'm damn well going to enjoy it.

I may be broke, unemployed and not exactly in the position I envisaged being in at this stage of my life. But, you know, for the moment? I can deal with it. Things could be worse – things have been worse – so I'm pleased to say that this could well be that downward spiral taking a turn for the better. If spirals can indeed take turns for the better.

You know what I mean. You reach rock bottom, you have to start climbing back out again sometime. So onwards and upwards it is, and thank you to those people who have made it possible. You know who you are.

Now there are games to play and Calpol to drink. Night night.

#oneaday, Day 276: Age of the Crossover

The Internet was left reeling yesterday with the news that Professor Layton and Phoenix Wright were to star in a game together, news which left me in a state of semi-orgasmic shock, and yet slightly disappointed that they hadn't also included Trauma Team and Hotel Dusk in the mix. But no matter; as my Jaffa Cake-loving friend Jasmine Maleficent Rea pointed out, the idea of Edgeworth and Layton sitting down together and discussing tea is too awesome for words.

So it seems we're in the Age of the Crossover. We've had the odd crossover title before, of course, Marvel vs Capcom being one that springs immediately to mind, as well as Square Enix's bizarre 3D fighting game Ehrgeiz that featured a number of characters from the Final Fantasy series. And Kingdom Hearts, of course, which almost ignores the fact that floppy-haired J-protagonists are interacting with Disney characters presented in a completely different art style and is all the better for it.

But what else would work well as a crossover? Well, a short while back I suggested that a Call of Duty and Call of Cthulhu crossover might be a good idea. I still think that would be awesome. Particularly as there's already been a first-person Call of Cthulhu game that was pretty good, if a bit buggy in places. In fact, I'd be more than happy with a multiplayer FPS version of awesome co-op board game Arkham Horror, although we're kind of getting a bit off the crossover point there. Drop in the, erm, memorable Call of Duty characters, maybe?

But what else? As I suggest in today's comic, doing interesting things with cars is always a good thing. Split/Second proves that you can make a cinematic, exciting driving game that uses a dynamic movie-like soundtrack rather than a boring licensed one. So why not take that to the next level and combine the already-epic-and-explosive action of Split/Second with the utter nonsense that is a JRPG boss battle? Let's have racing around giant Shadow of the Colossus-style enemies, setting off environmental effects to attempt to take them down whilst they do their very best to throw the player off course. All the while accompanied by a full orchestral score and a choir of people singing loudly in Latin, naturally. (Incidentally, if you've never played any driving game with a custom orchestral soundtrack that involves a choir of people singing loudly in Latin then I can highly recommend it. It makes the whole experience considerably more exciting. Try the soundtracks from Castlevania Lords of Shadow or The Matrix Revolutions.)

Or you could go completely wild. Rockstar already seem pretty determined to do very odd things to Red Dead Redemption what with the zombie DLC and whatnot, so why not go the whole hog and do a Firefly crossover? It would be stylistically appropriate, after all (more so than bloody zombies) and provide an interesting twist on the Western formula, something which Firefly already does rather ably. Not to mention the fact that Nathan Fillion and the gang have already pretty much reprised their Firefly roles in Halo ODST. Shiny.

There's plenty of scope for all manner of nonsense if you start pushing different franchises together in the name of entertainment. And I'm not talking about Alien vs Predator here. Let's see more of these big names in gaming coming together to produce something beautiful.

So what would you like to see?

#oneaday, Day 275: Inexplicable Advertising

Advertising copywriters have a largely thankless task in front of them. Responsible for making people want to buy shit that they don't really want to, it's their job to come up with new and innovative ways to attract people to various products and inspire them to give them a try, usually by convincing people that they wouldn't possibly be able to live without said product.

Some advertisers and product designers take an entirely different tack, however, and lapse into the realms of the bizarre. Let's explore a few, shall we?

Options: Sexy Hot Chocolate

Hot chocolate: sexy. Confused nerd: less sexy.

Think of a nice warm mug of hot chocolate and what is the first thing that comes to mind? Perhaps snuggling under a nice warm blanket, maybe in front of a roaring fire. A large shaggy dog may be draped over the rug in front of said fire. Alternatively, you might be thinking of a camping trip, gathering around the campfire to warm yourselves before. Whatever specific image you have in your head, it's probably related to night-time, warmth, cosiness and possibly being about to go to bed. For sleeping. Not for naughty reasons.

So, then, let's take a look at the mint chocolate variety of Options hot chocolate.

"The flirty mint green kitten heels were madness at the garden party," proudly proclaims the sachet. "Mint" and "madness" are much larger than the others, so you have to look close to read the rest of it.

Which is probably just as well, because it's complete nonsense. What in the name of the nine Hells has mint green kitten heels (whatever they are) and garden parties got to do with a steaming hot chocolatey beverage? Why is there a woman in a slinky dress on the logo? She's not even wearing heels!

Options hot chocolate is delicious, by the way, despite all this.

Maoam Stripes Enjoy Back-Door Lovin'

The fact the orange is winking leads me to believe that this is EXACTLY what it looks like.

Maoam are weird fruity chew things that taste like fruit flavour and are very addictive. They also have a weird name that is impossible to type correctly first time every single time it becomes necessary to type them.

Now, perhaps the nature of the sweets dictated the artwork on them—a fusion of fruit flavours, or something—but is it really necessary to have a picture of a lime gleefully bumming an amputee orange on the wrapper? I vote "no".

These bizarre decisions pale in comparison to what you find in your average commercial break on digital or satellite TV these days, though:

Alexander the Asshole… I mean Meerkat

For those of you outside the UK, this irritating twat that a frankly depressing number of people seem to find utterly hilarious is the product of an advertising campaign for an insurance price comparison website called "Compare the Market". The "joke" is that "Compare the Meerkat" sounds a bit like "Compare the Market". If you're a complete retard who can't speak properly.

The above video is for his book. Yes, his book. A character dreamed up to sell insurance has a book out. I guess this should be a heartwarming story of a new national comedic treasure. But… oh, for heaven's sake, it's a mildly racist advertising campaign with an annoying catchphrase for—let's not forget this fact—insurance—and the world is going crazy for it. Actually, the world is just going crazy.

Go Compare? Go Away

I don't think anything else needs to be said, apart from pointing out insurance price comparison websites' predilection for changing one of the most boring things in existence into one of the most irritating things in existence.

The Credit Idiot

"Hey, boss, shall we hire some actors?"

"Nah, fuck it, hire the guy from the takeaway around the corner. He's cheap and he's always wanted to be on TV."

Seriously? All these ads have convinced me is that I never want to use any of those services, ever. Yet when I do actually need a service like that, the only sites I can think of are these ones because of their incredibly irritating adverts. Which I guess is sort of the point.

Oh well.

And people wonder why I don't watch much TV.