The Fiery Gaze of Judgement: Carrier Command: Gaea Mission

Carrier Command: Gaea Mission. Sequel to a fondly-remembered game from the Dark Ages of Computing, when we thought a tape deck was some unassailable summit of data storage and the CD was sparkly witchcraft that could only be used for music and evil. I played Carrier Command: Gaea Mission. Has part of my childhood now sunk beneath the waves?

I Am Aperture

A guest post by Cave Johnson, founder and CEO of Aperture Science Innovators.

This is Cave Johnson, recently returned from the Futuroscope lab where I have beheld the world we call “the future”. It’s a fantastic place, full of exhilarating discoveries, breathtaking achievements, and five quadrillion gallons of orange jello in international waters that are absolutely, positively, not our fault, no matter what the UN investigative committee says.

English

I wish someone would do some language maintenance.

English wasn’t intended for this sort of use and uptime. The original merger between Anglo-Saxon and Norman caused a whole raft of problems that centuries of hotfixes haven’t solved, and frankly it’s time somebody took the language down for maintenance and cleaned out some of the cruft. I don’t think that’s going to cut it, though.

Why Aren’t You Playing… Nexus: The Jupiter Incident

The year is 2004. The world mourns the passing of Marlon Brando, Ronald Reagan, Fay Wray, and Brian Clough. The Six Nations rugby championship is won by France. Facebook is launched. In the midst of this despair there is one spark of hope that prevents the world from collectively throwing itself off a bridge, and that is Nexus: The Jupiter Incident.

Saturday Storytime

Johnathan swore as the thrat burst out of the undergrowth in front of him. His finger tightened reflexively on his trigger and the assault rifle in his hand discharged a spray of mercury blobs at supersonic speed into a tree with a sound like tearing paper. The thrat danced briefly aside and turned to vanish into the undergrowth, its large hairy body moving with unnatural speed.

He sighed as he checked his tally. Five thrats down, three more to go. He silently cursed the corporate rep back at the base who sent him on this thrat hunt. Who needs eight thrats killed? Why only eight? Why did he need to harvest their tails? What does the corporation want with eight thrat tails? Sometimes he wondered if the world really was as messed up as the company grapevine always said.