John Walker's Electronic House

Well, this is either going to open with some sort of remark about the 25th anniversary of Pacman, or about how the DS is finally coming into its own. Spin the wheel… tikka tikka tikka tik tik tik tiiik tiiiiik… clunk. It’s the DS.

This is the moment that you can finally say it’s worth owning a DS. Sure, Zoo Keeper is a lot of fun. Certainly, there were a couple of novel ideas in WarioWare: Touched. And yes, I’d imagine you have your own unique defense for any number of the obscure titles that have trickled out in the machine’s first 10 months. But now, at last, the awkwardness is gone, and the stylus is entirely justified. Nintendogs welcomes in the crowds, Advance Wars: Dual Strike pleases those in the know, Phoenix Wright delights the obscurists, and Kirby: Canvas Curse demonstrates that innovation brings in surprise results.

Some sort of unnecessary explanatory sentence.

Well pharoahe_monche, today I got up at 8, checked my email, went to the local grocery store and bought Stuart Campbell an excellent present, came back to Kim-n-Nick’s, got a call from Lisa, then got the bus, then ‘L’, then walked (first in the wrong direction until I reached the lake) to Simon’s – a bar – where I met Lisa, and we went for lunch at a local coffee place, then went CD shopping down at Belmont, then north to Morse where Lisa lives to get coffee, then to a nice restaurant where we both ate our absolute fill for less than $25, and then we walked to the lake and stood on the pier and watched the full moon be full, before Lisa had to go to work, and I went on the L to Simon’s again, watched the first 2/3 of the 5th NLCS game, then Amy arrived and we had a couple of drinks, then went back to Amy’s apartment and met her cats and saw her incredible oil paintings while she copied my new CDs, and then got the L and bus back to here.

That’s pretty much what I do.

If there’s one topic of conversation I’m the most boring and irritating about when in America, it’s comparing and contrasting the nation with the UK. I hear myself beginning another sentence with, “In the UK this is…” or “Do you guys have…”, and cringe as much as those around me. I’m going to get some sort of kit that will electrocute me every time I do it.

But it happens so frequently because of the dramatic difference between the US and UK. It seems counter-intuitive when you consider how much of our cultural intake is in common, the shared language, and to some extent, the same commercial empires. But this is only aesthetic. The two nations are as diverse and peculiar as two countries on opposite sides of the planet might otherwise be expected to be. It trips me up so often that I voice my surprise, and become the stuck record.

I have a theory that the Brits fictionalise America. Because so much of British television, and almost all shown at the cinema, is American, the nation and its semiotic flags become markers of our fantasy fiction. If you’re watching a film about dragons, and you see a twisty castle on the top of a cliff, you don’t question this. There are no twisty castles on the tops of cliffs in your life, but because this is a film about dragons, you accept it entirely. But you still recognise it as fiction. I think the same occurs when Brits see images of children playing in fire hydrants on street corners, steam rising from of drain covers in the middle of a road, or high school sororities selecting who can try out for the cheerleader squad. It’s all pretend – the stuff of movies – fantasy. But of course, it’s all real.

Everyone does have huge refrigerators. There are keg parties. Yellow school buses do take kids to school. People’s houses really are toilet-papered (there’s two on this street currently tpd). Mail boxes do have flags on them to show when there’s mail inside. All these iconic images that tell us that we’re watching American output are not exaggerations, but life. To come here, to see it all for real, is to at once break the illusion and feel as if you’re within it.

This is not romaticising – it is, in fact, the opposite. It’s recognising the iconic as mundane, removing a layer of disbelief from US TV and movies.

And I want to live here. Which makes things awkward.

King John, in response to his Most Esteemed Royal Advisor Duchess Kim of the Commonwealth of PA, officially decrees the hideous murder of ‘Bobsy’, for so heinously making claims on the Royal City of Illinois.

Others have been named in the first round of beheadings for their greed or stupidity, but none shall suffer so painfully as Bobsy. His name is henceforth banned from utterance in the Kingdom of Americaland, under penalty of death.

The Mountain Goats were utterly awesome, and they played Your Belgian Things, about which I couldn’t have been more delighted. They kept their heads throughout.

Those to die also listed with current Duchy appointments.

Those Getting Beheaded For Asking For States Already Taken Or Being Generally Stupid

The Late StuM: for requesting taken states and being grotesquely greedy.

Graham Payne: For commenting in the wrong section twice.

Bobsy: FOR BEING SO DESPICABLE AND EVIL AS TO MAKE CLAIMS ON THE ROYAL CITY OF ILLINOIS

Things appear to be progressing nicely.

Some early research indicates that Americaland doesn’t even have a monarch. Who could have guessed that? This makes things a lot easier than I could ever have imagined.

Thus, I hereby claim the Americaland as my Kingdom.

IT IS DONE.

Congratulations to the first 19 Dukes and Duchesses to have been appointed. This means there are still 31 positions to be filled. Come along, don’t be shy. There’s 180 people who didn’t pick a state yesterday, and frankly, that’s just crazy. I will have you killed.

To celebrate my throning, tonight I have demanded that my most favoured band, the Mountain Goats, play for my royal pleasure. At the Empty Bottle. Being King is flipping ace.

I’m concerned about my Duke of Texas, however. He doesn’t appear to be respecting my Kingly authority, and is already threatening to invade California. So, heads up Jim.

To see currently appointed Dukedoms, click here.

Stage one of my plan has been executed perfectly.

I’m into America, without arousing suspicion. On the cunning pretence of “visiting Kim and Nick”, no one seems to have any idea of my masterplan.

Once I have fully infiltrated their people, I shall dispose their reigning monarch and declare myself KING OF AMERICA.

A select few shall be invited to join me in the royal courts, each given duchies and soforth. Jim Rossignol has already reserved Duke of California, so tough if you wanted that. If I deem you worthy, I will give you your desired state or commonwealth within North America. Territory will be snapped up quickly. Book early to avoid disappointment.*

Obviously, as the old saying goes, there’s a cost with every coup, and here it is Brian’s Guide. If I were organised I’d have a cartoon up saying something like “Brian is on holiday”, along with a slightly annoyingly cute remark. Now, Linux has proven fairly remarkable in detecting every device plugged into my computer without even asking a question, let alone asking for a driver and rebooting thirteen times. Mouse, keyboard, ADSL, monitor, graphics card, sound card (all five speakers working, which Windows couldn’t manage with the driver), printer, and so on. Graphics tablet, plugging and playing, that would be a big ask. But the geniuses at Touch, manufacturers of my tablet, state that they aren’t interest in producing Linux drivers, because they don’t want more people to buy their product, apparently. That would make them money, or something equally unsavoury. I thought, what the heck though, I’ll have a go. And it worked! No drivers, no info, no setting up – the pen moved the pointer. And then all hell broke loose. Query windows opened faster than I could close them, menus started flickering, applications loaded themselves and then went into a frenzy of activity – a poltergeist had taken possession of my machine. So, in short, no Brian until I have finished my capture of this nation. Week after next, then. But don’t fear – this isn’t May all over again – he will definitely be back.

One of the first things I shall be changing when I am King will be American keyboards. Yes, of course, it does make more sense to have the ” above the ‘ on the keyboard, relegating the @ to above the 2, but who wants sense when you can have nonsense? Man, I’ll be such an amazing King. And they’ll be getting proper-sized Enter keys as well, so you can find them.

It’s all about priorities. And talking of which…

WHO SHALL BE MY QUEEN?

To see currently appointed Dukedoms, click here.

*The importance of the duke/duchess position may go down as well as up. The reigning monarch reserves the rights to behead any who lose favour without prior warning. Side effects may include headaches or nausea, and extreme shortness of breath.

* Tom B: John!
* John W: Hey Tom! Wassup?!
* Tom B: John! I’ve got a game for you to… REVIEW!
* John W: NO WAY MAN!!!
* Tom B: That’s right! Thing is John, this can’t be any ordinary review…
* John W: You don’t mean…?
* Tom B: Yes! This has to be a MEGAREVIEW!!
* THWACK!!
* John W: Ok Tom, I think I can do this. It’s been a while, but that was a long time ago and it’s all in the past now.
* Tom B: I know you’re the man for this John. I believe in you.
* John W: Then… I’LL DO IT!

!!!MEGAREVIEW!!!

The most fun I’ve had with a game in so flipping long.

Neil Mohr is officially the Best Person Ever Made.

Officially.

Thank you to all who suggested help for fixing the boot record thingamies. Neil has achieved exactly this, and now I have all my files back!

Now. I’m assuming that some evil took place somewhere inside the scary parts of the computer. Can those of wisdom out there tell me if plugging it back in again is going to have the same thing re-muddle the thing again, and put me back where I started? Is GRUB going to do some untold evil? Is there something in all the confusing “(hda 0,1)” type nonsense in the GRUB info that will muck it all up?

Sorry if I’ve confused everyone with these technical terms.

A while back, Kieron discovered the blog of the only serious student of gaming in the world.

He noticed.

Oh dear, I appear to be somewhat broken inside.

Today I went to the rheumatologist. After having learned of the source of all my power, hypermobility syndrome, I had assumed it all to be relatively mundane. Which made the list of notes received from the doctor a little surprising.

I’m never quite sure how to be when I’m at the doctor. I go as rarely as possible, and when I have to I’m utterly terrified of being thought of as a hypochondriac, so play down any symptoms I may have to ensure they don’t think I’m a whackjob. So I end up saying, “Well, I don’t mind that those organs keep falling out the wound, I suppose. I just thought I should get it checked out as I’ve heard that livers should be on the inside, or something, whatever, sorry to be a trouble.” Today I think I struck a good balance of Not A Loon, but actually wanting something done about things. And the horrid pain in my left arm right now is my body’s way of thanking me.

It turns out, I’ll probably need an operation on my left arm. How urgently I need this done is to be determined by some tests they will perform where they will electrocute my nerves. I’m wondering, is it bad when the doctor is wearing a long, black trenchcoat, and a hat with a skull on the front?

They also took blood and urine (well, I volunteered the urine with my own urine-dispensing ability, brought to the surgery in a Buxton Mineral Water bottle with one of those squeezy cap things. I chose this with the hope of some hilarious sitcom-style apple juice mix up incident, but sadly this failed to materialise. The blood was more forcefully removed, as no matter which muscle I squeezed, it all stayed on the inside).

Apparently I’m to be sent for physio to see if my joints can be coerced into working normally, AND to some special classes that teach you How To Live With Being Broken, which I think suggests a pessimistic expectation of the physio. The doctor filled in about four hundred forms, each of which had to be put in a different coloured tray, where it was whipped away by a nursemonkey within seconds. Very efficient.

So much for being super-powered. It transpires that all this bendiness only offers being five or six times more likely to develop osteoarthritis. That’s not quite as exciting as I’d hoped.

AND Laura beat me at Scrabble by 60 points.

Man.