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Tycho / 10 hours ago

Got Some More R6 Codes

My magical code machine is still operating at max capacity, and we have loaded it with a few more codes if you still want to get in.  Said codes can be transformed into access for whatever machine you want to play it on, in preparation for the beta which opens on the 24th of this month.


Tycho / 12 hours ago

Club PA Comic Preview

It gets mailed out a little later this month to members in Robert’s newsletter, but here’s the preview panel for this top secret shiz:


Tycho / 16 hours ago

Max Max has been a pretty good medicine for returning to normal life, I would say.  I have applied it to every exposed surface and I have been improved thereby.

When it comes to the consumption of game news, I am - as in all things - drawn to the edge case.  For instance, when I see a screenshot, I prize high resolution shots of the user interface far more than any other thing.  Recall that, like Prometheus, we have gifted mankind vital tools for living.  In our case, we fashioned the term Bullshot, which encompasses fraudulent promotional imagery, certainly - but virtually no still shot has any utility to the game enthusiast.  Like a back of the box shot or the tiny window into a game universe printed in a magazine, they can spark interpolations on the part of the viewer and that’s about it.  An interface shot communicates a wealth of data about the aesthetic, cognition, and experience of a game.  I’m always seeking them out.

Likewise, individual reviews are only as useful as a particular star on Orion’s Belt.  They can gesture at a whole, but typically represent gesticulations or (in the case of the recent Metal Gear Solid reviews) genuflections at best.  None of this is meant to say that they shouldn’t be written, just that they indicate a continuum and, like Pringles, should never be consumed individually.  Though, for my taste, I feel very confident reading a review by Jeff Gerstmann, reviews are tools.  One is rarely enough to result in anything meaningful.

So it is only when there is a strong disparity of review scores that I take serious notice.  I don’t entirely know what purpose it serves giving Mad Max a 5, but I don’t believe it’s correlated in any way with the product.  I think this number is a tool designed to make me talk about the review, and I have taken the bait because I’m tired and it made me angry.  One may say “this number is an index of someone’s personal experience, and therefore cannot be wrong,” but that reasoning can be likened to a pirate’s cove, where villains take refuge.  If the number only refers to the interior geometry of your skull, unmoored from any shared consciousness, maybe numbers are not for you.  Maybe you should score games using the names of bones.  Maybe you should score games using Nordic women’s names exclusively.  Maybe this game is a Solveig, but this one is more of an Adelborg.

I could quit the game tomorrow and it wouldn’t be anything akin to a 5.  You could fire the harpoon once, just one time, hauling a sniper from his perch down, down, into the hot sand, and once the frenzied high-fiving had ceased you might feel the game had already earned its keep.



I took off yesterday and played Mad Max pretty much all day. It’s a fucking great game and I ended up sketching Max this morning to warm up.

Also, while at PAX I was invited to the Nvidia booth to draw something in a program called Tiltbrush. I ended up drawing the Fruit fucker and it was super cool. It’s basically painting in 3D using the HTC Vive. Each brush stroke I made hung there in the air and I could walk all around it. It’s fucking bonkers. Here’s a video of the final result. This view is a person watching my painting replayed at super speed. In reality it actually took me 30 minutes to draw.

If you liked that one, here is another. This one is by my friend Eka who was kind enough to export both these videos for me.


There were a few other artists who took part as well and I think Nvidia will be putting together a video of all the pieces.

I honestly cannot wait to have one of these in my house.

-Gabe out

Tycho / 3 days ago

When precisely a PAX ends is a philosophical thing.  As I learned after the inaugural PAX South, for many attendees the show actually goes late into the night after the closing ceremony - and for Enforcers and Attendees, the show must be reduced to atoms and then transmitted to the next location.  For me, PAX has two culminations: one, after we honor the Enforcers at the afterparty, and two (as previously described) when my phone is provisioned on my home network.  Both things have come to pass.  The portal is closed.

For my part, though, I am still ringing with it.  We are so tired we can barely manage the act of sitting and moving our fingers with intention.  I haven’t returned to my original state, and to be frank, I don’t entirely remember who I was before.  I will have to make a serviceable being from the limbs and meat I find within a couple yards of my current position, and see if that organism is up to the task.

I want to thank Nintendo for letting us have one of their Super Mario Maker kits for the Omegathon, which was double fun, because I’d spent a little time each day floating the idea under my breath that the final round was in fact Rocket League.  I would say this in a way that suggested that I was taking the person into confidence, which is a little mean, but yeah.  I’m not the monk, or the frog, or the turtle in the story.  I’m the other guy.

We had Morgan from Nintendo backstage with us, the creator of the level, which is a Super Mario version of PAX that takes you through the show’s traditional touchstones - Tabletop, PC, that kind of stuff.  They mean to release this level eventually, you’ll be able to test yourself against it.  But the reason we had him on hand was several-fold - we wanted him to see his level “performed,” certainly.  But believe this: the final round of the Omegathon was two or three runs away from our Armageddon Scenario, where we would haul Morgan on stage and let each contestant change one thing about the level and try again.  Which, honestly, would have been the most incredible commercial for Super Mario Maker ever, but I digress.  The level was mean as hell.

Of the two Omeganauts in the final round, Mighty was clearly the crowd favorite.  Outside of a frenzied, borderline bestial run by his opponent Lysander on one of his first playthroughs, his opponent’s performance had reached borderline fiasco status.  The crowd wanted him chained to a rock and pecked by birds.  As a PC gamer primarily, Lysander was plunged into a well of darkness.  Or was it quenching oil?  Because after another strong set of attempts by Mighty, Lysander rolled through the entire thing - he even ran underneath the final boss, a completely legitimate and recognized play for the Super Mario Bros. stalwart.  Indeed, he was past the boss, and threw a couple half-hearted fireballs until he realized that against all fucking odds he had won a trip to the Tokyo Game Show.  There are long odds, and then there are odds which require a PhD and a couple weeks use of the Large Hadron Collider to parse.  This was the latter kind.

I talked to Mighty afterward, and he said something that I’ve heard the whole time about this crop of Omeganauts: they shared tips, they backed each other up.  Lysander learned a lot from Mighty’s runs, and got through; some measure of must accord to Mighty also, which is how the final round was designed.  I’m very glad they were able to pull it off at all, though; after a half-hour or so of this performance, I pictured Gabriel and I on this stage for the next ten thousand years, while the Benaroya center and indeed our civilization at large crumbled and was rebuilt around us, never ceasing, in a hell dimension of our own twisted manufacture.


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