Boing Boing Sheffield Hallam

So, I'm here. I've been here a week or so, and I've not really had access to a PC since I got here. But now I have, so no all of you get a short run-down of my activities.

Basically I've been going out to clubs and loving every minute of the drunken fumbling that entails. More to come when I actually have Internet in my room - something that we should've had as soon as we moved in. Annoying, but not life-threatening. I hope.

Additions

Also, the 'nunchaku'-style controller will give added analogue play. Good news for those ninja nuts out there. Also good news is that it looks a lot like Blade of Honor (Tsurugi) can have a version on it. Which would be damned awesome.

More to come, of course, except if you're really that interested you can ring me and have your ear chewed off by my enthusiasm.

FUCKING A

I'm so ecstatic right now I could actually just bounce around the hosue for about an hour... why? Because Nintendo just released the information about the Revolution, their newest console - moreover that the controller will feature gyroscopes, and separate controllers for each hand. Demonstrations of how these would work in-game were given. Like maybe a FPS where the gyro controller is the gun, or a tennis game.

This is exactly what I predicted three years ago.

I'm damned happy about it. This means that not only can I play the games I've been psyching myself up to for the last few years, I can play them the way I want to play them. Awesome.

First-person Punch-Out, anyone?

Everything Sounds Like Coldplay Now

So that's it... over and out, done and dusted, whatever you want to call it. The people who have been closest to me these past several years have now all stridden off into the sunset to some cheesy music, walking in slow motion, just before the credits roll.

And it's a bizarre feeling. It's not exactly a sad feeling, though - and this is something which annoys me somewhat, because you'd think that I'd feel something.

I guess I know that we'll never really lose touch or some sentimental idea like that, except that I know that, in all probability, we will, and the greatest chance we all have of meeting up again is if we all get invited to the premiere of Red Neon, or something.

Oh, I'm sure we'll all meet up every Christmas for a few years, but... then what? I'll probably move to Scotland or America for the jobs or something, and bam - farewell life. I mean, I know that almost nobody keeps their friends from their teenage years, but once - just once - wouldn't it be nice to do so?

The Armadillo Of Truth Always Knows What It Wants

So, rather bizarrely, we come to Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays, but that's here nor there. The point is that on Monday night all of the aptly-named 'blokes' are convening at my house for Mario-themed mayhem and other really wild things, and that it could be the last time for quite a while. In all probability, it will be.

Good Lord, that's quite ahocking when you think about it like that. I think we might make it our business to get extremely pissed.


Afterwards, on the Tuesday, we might all trot off to go and see the Aristocrats, which, far from being that bizarre Disney affair with those of the feline persuasion that Viggars seems to have got it mixed up with, is actually the story of the most profane joke in existence. It is told only between comedians, and is so famous not because it can of course never be told in polite company, but because it can be twisted so much by each individual comedian to suit their own particular style, and yet still remain the same joke.

I doubt anyone but me would be interested in going to see a documentary about a joke, but if we don't see it together I'm seeing it on my own when I get to Sheffield.



In other news, I've been talking witha rather posh accent recently - much more than usual. I think it's probably because I've been listening to the dulcet tones of Simon Jones all too often and it's rubbed off on me. If only a few hours of exposure can do this to me, imagine what I'm going to be like after a few weeks in Sheffield.

No, on second thoughts I'll probably retain my poshness - if nothing else so that I can feel superior to everyone else around me, like I have been doing for years.

Chomsky's Choice

There's a couple of things I'd just like to say about adverts right now.

First of all, the advert for margarine - Country Time, or something - that's being shown currently is absolutely inspired, and deserves to win an award. Of course, it is unlikely to, as I'm unable to remember the name of the product it's advertising - which, of course, is the whole point of an advertisement, but - awesome, nevertheless.

The other thing is that thetre's one of those adverts recently aired to try and raise a place's economy. Remember that 'Wales, The Big Country' campaign with the sand coming out of that bloke's shoe, or the Australia one that had Eva Cassidy (I think) in the background? Well, in this case, it's New Zealand. And in the opening few scenes there's a couple in a small wooden boat, floating gently through some water and laughing. The camera cuts to a view from above, and we see that the walls of this lagoon are festooned with delicate leaves and petals, and are only spread apart by a majestic waterfall.
This is somewhere that I have been regularly visiting in my dreams for several years, and by a startling coincidence this place in New Zealand is the exact carbon copy of it. I have to visit it at some point.

And Underneath The Newspaper Were My Biscuits

I bought the Quandary Phase of Hitchhiker's on CD today - it's already on my Gigabeat, and I'm loading all the rest onto it, to listen to in order. For some reason an audiobook takes longer to get onto the machine than a music CD - I wonder why that is?

Like A Savannah Cat

So London was pretty good. I liked it, as I always do - there's something there that can't really be emulated by any other city. I can't wait for a couple of weeks, when I'll be in Sheffield and I can just shove my shoes on and get lost in the city, finding little nooks and crannies and just spending the day walking about. I love getting lost.

On the way back from London, I got into one of my giggling fits, which I also absolutely love - they're happening more often now, too, so that's a good thing. Laughter is another thing I absolutely love to do.

...Ben just rang, from Spain - apparently it's 37 degrees and he's not feeling the heat. Lucky git.

I'm not quite sure what else to write here, really, except that I'm sure I'm missing out on a hell of a lot of news that I'm not reporting.


Ah well.

It Is Here

My Gigabeat arrived yesterday, and I've spent since then shoving music onto it for the trip down to London. I reckon I'll fill about 15 gig of it if I use my entire music collection. That leaves 25 gig spare - quite enough, I feel.

Oh, and it fucking rawks, by the way.