Walsingham

The NPC are certainly less cardboard and anodyne than in Oblivion. But that's like saying someone is more animated than Stephen Hawking. The gun issue with needing to reload makes very good sense, and only occurs when something is poorly maintained. I can live with the bullet physics as is, because VATS is so freaking cool. I just love it. My only gripe is that a location specific headshot doesn't seem to do much to an opponent when they are crippled. I also miss being able to shoot the nuts off things. Even more so now there are flies. [i had agility 10 to start with and took action girl. I can destroy an entire squad of enemies in one round with headshots. Plausible? no. Fun? Hell yeah.] I can't believe they got rid of the action dependent end sceens! I've been going out of my way to do interesting things out of curiousity to see what impact they have. It's so obviously meant to wind up with some endings changing! Gah.

See? Blank is a model of taste and discretion.

I thought the word for that sort of behaviour was 'jackass'?

I'm pleased that so many Americans voted, and I'm pleased that there was little covert racism. I'm pleased that there has been a change of administration, and that there will be an opportunity to re-brand America in the eyes of the world. I'm glad that we have a new man, and a black man in the presidency. However, my principle concern at this time is the same that prompted many to vote McCain. Is this PARTICULAR new man, and black man, the RIGHT man for the world right now? What really are his plans? What will his rhetoric (which is no different from any other president) really translate into? I am worried about this because of the regular ordinary dangers. Obama may lack the courage and skil to navigate out of the economic crisis in a sustainable way. Obama may lack the courage and conviction necessary to complete the essential work being done in Iraq and Afghanistan. But almost more importantly he may betray the confidence and hope of his supporters, which would deal a savage blow to the fragile seedlings of political involvement in the USA. That would be more severe because a generation without political hope would lead to a generation of more terrible politicians. It is more likely because I don't see how a man who stood for so few specifics can possibly satisfy all his adherents. But I'll still drink to his success.

I can't stand most fish, bar salmon, tuna, and shark <sic>. I got a fishbone through my epiglottis, that then got stuck in my throat wall. Two hours of pain every time I swallowed or tried to tell anyone, or turn my head. Bloody awful.

We could set up some kind of inverse tachyon field. That would make them glow.

Point. Accepted.

I like this idea, and wonder why it is not an option. I suppose you still have the problem of exerting a force on the gold. The question then becomes how you exert that force and why the same force cannot be applied in the other direction? On the other hand you have a further point, which is that the gold in question appears to more or less exactly balance the weight on the counter-balance. Thus if only a small quantity of gold were ejected it might give enough play to retreive the remainder. How much gold would have to go to counter-balance the weight of one man? A further thought occurs: why not add 'weight' to the safe end by tethering to the ground? A further thought: If the front wheels could be made to sink into the ground, or adhere to the tarmac of the road, then this would assist in securing the gold. If the ground is soil, this could be achieved by water. But i think the trcuk is on teh tarmac, in which case the tires could be melted. However, this leaves the question of how to get the truck moving again later. EDIT: Could soil be taken on to the truck at the front end? Counter-balancing the weight?

I think Winston Churchill said of an opponent that he was "a humble man, with much to be humble about"

Voting = points.

Wasn't it Asimov who said that either possiblity - that we are utterly alone in the universe, or that we have companions - is terrifying. I say UFO spotters are just damned lazy. get up off your arse and get into space, people! Let's be the first to probe other planets.

I used to be irrationally afraid of dogs, until it emerged that my broken nose is a consequence of being bitten about the head by a wild dog as a baby. I was then attacked by packs of wild dogs while attempting to jog in the Orient. Fortunately, a rucksack with rocks in makes a very effective weapon. I no longer consider this fear irrational. I used to be irrationally afraid of rats and snakes, until I got attacked by them, and they too became rational fears. I used to be afraid of skinny fashionable women, until I got attacked by one, and realised how feeble they are. I am now irrationally afraid of wasps, and have been publicly mocked on several occasions for flapping while in their presence. I am also 'irrationally' afraid of middle class people. Their grip on morality appears to fluctuate with every issue of New Scientist, and is driven by a savage jealousy of the upper classes, and a nagging fear of the lower. It does not help my mental health to know that I am myself middle class (more or less).

I should just chime in to remark that however dingbat the opposition to EA and DRM, I noticed recently that I have not bought ANY EA games in two years. My first thought was that I'm being a little harsh given I don't really understand the issues. But then I thought 'balls to it, as if EA deserve me cutting them slack'. It's an interesting point, marketing wise, I feel. I've been wondering recently if consumers would do well to collaborate into unions to combat abuse and exert pressure more effectively.

I'm a wee bit confused by his ignoring the most violent incident in the game, where the human race is nearly destroyed by global thermonuclear war. It's like the fact that you can't shoot a child's head off, but you ARE allowed to destroy and entire twon, children (presumably) included.

As you may have assumed from my absence, I've been absolutely enthralled by this game. I cannot really give it enough praise, with some non-critical but minor niggles: 1. A bit more sense to the decor, please. People in a permanent dwelling don't leave corpses in the bathtub. They also arrange for the basics, like toilets and brothels as a priority. 2. Bullet physics felt all screwy. Can it really be so hard, after so many years of shooters? 3. Some of the kit felt needlessly glamourised, a la Bioshock, rather than low-tech. Why in the name of christ are there bottle cap mines, but not simple black powder booby traps etc? Why a steam powered awesomeness funcannon (Rock-it launcher) but no thrown spears? In every other respect a truly great game, with bags of potential, and real proper conversations and missions!!!!

I finally got around to re-watching Whoops Apocalypse! If anything, it has got funnier with age. Particularly post Iraq. Peter Cook is the best Prime Minister figure ever. But the US Presidency gags are particularly apposite. http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=lDstN0MWGKo

That's just about the cutest damned thing I've seen in years. I shall have to recommend the outfit to my sergeant major.

I assume you've read "The Trouble With Lichen?"

Shrews? They?

Does anyone else find it weird that a strand of RNA looks uncannily similar to a snake wrapped round a tree?

What? I'm just downloading my copy from Steam now. There's no levelling BS, which means Bethesda listen to my shrieking, and you can actually talk to people. I know we can't shoot the nuts off deathclaws any more (how else am I going to do it?), but otherwise fair enough, surely? I nearly didn't buy it because of secuROM, but the secuROM appears to be a simple disc check. Which I won't face in any case, through steam.

Your words, not mine.

I'm going to buy those babies. EDIT: "Do I look... like a dev?"

I tell you what, happy-pants. You can keep the gold in the van. It's for the kudos! Anyway, the way I figure it the basic problem is a pivot. Which means we have to lift up the gold, or hold down the driver's end. However, that's just the momentary issue. The next level up we're trying to get the gold. HOWEVER, going up a further level what we really want is both the gold, the van, and the fellahs inside. Given this, the most obvious solution is to move the gold from the rear end of the van to the front end. This lightens the unsafe end, and weighs down the safe end. All one of you with me so far?

Ah explosives... is there anything they can't solve?* We had been planning a dungeon crawl for some time, but on the day I was the only player. The referee said I could try, but the odds were poor. I pondered this for a while and said I would, on condition he'd let me have a half dozen chickens, four gallons jars of lamp oil, a basting tube and a pouch of rolling tobacco and self-sticking fairy wings (rizlas). Thus proving a personal maxim which is it is best to not tell the ref what you're planning. 1. Two crossbow bolts and I'm past the bored goblins at the tunnel entrance. 2. I hear a troll talking to itself in the tunnel down. Down goes one jar of lamp oil. glug glug glug. "Hoy, rockfoot!" Burning troll. A bit of poking with a spear. Hi-di-ho, and on we go. 3. A guard room. Double-quick the basting syringe is filled with lamp oil, and one unlucky chicken receives it the way a T-54 receives an A-10 warthog. A roll-up is tethered to the chicken's tail feathers and lit. Finally the chicken is shoved around the door, where it proceeds to flap about, spraying flaming lamp oil over everything and generally causing chaos. In the melee two more chickens are introduced, followed by my dwarven tunnel-fighter who proceeds to fillet the four guards. 4a. By this time the alarm has been raised if that's the right word, by the noise of explosive (literally) diahorrea. I can hear a range of goblinoids forming up around the corner. I lay down my second to last jar of oil on the floor. On the near side of the oil I leave a trussed live chicken, that has once again had its innards prematurely pickled. In its beak is clamped a lit cigarette. I weigh down its feet with a fallen sword, keeping it in a standing position, and retreat to a safe distance. 4b. On come the goblins, with the weakest in number at the front. They cross the lamp oil. One goes to pick up the chicken, but being food, it goes to the largest one (the chief), who unceremoniously bites its throat out. Out sprays the lamp oil, and down goes the cigarette. Flambe. Naturally I realised at this point that I still couldn't win so I ran off. The referee objects to my use of the chickens as out of character, to which I obviously replied that it was normal practice among dwarven tunnel fighters, and that for this reason the ancient dwarf lords traded first with humans. A fast, and or capacious chicken being worth its weight in mithril. I received full session experience points.