Hello Monster!

According to Pink Tentacle, the ROBO-ONE competition held in Tokyo in March, has a long-term desire to hold its robot battle competitions on the surface of the moon. Unfortunately, they don’t believe that will be possible until at least 2030. In the meantime the organizers announced plans to begin holding its robot competition in space on October 10, 2010 (10/10/10) but a number of variables — such as obtaining international approval for the use of radio frequencies, actually launching the satellites and robots into space, etc. — make it a little difficult to set a firm date, so they are shooting for an actual date “somewhere between 2010 and 2015″.

They even have a 1Mb promo video (WMV)!

An Edinburgh based Nintendo representative was quick to deny that their console “would be any smaller in stature than the Sony or Microsoft consoles”. (more…)

In a strangely recursive moment of life imitating-art-imitating… well, games, Paul Robertson’s Pirate Baby’s Cabana Battle Street Fight 2006 (torrent) is an incredible piece of machinima-styled animation based on the look and feel of a platform game that was never made, with soundtrack from Cornel Wilczek. Apparently Paul’s work has been shown in many galleries in Australia and he’s now working in the industry but this is the first I’ve seen of it. I hope it won’t be the last, as this just blows me away. Perhaps I’m jaded by too much time in the industry but I often find myself looking at a game and thinking about what it could have been. It’s odd watching a video that I don’t really want to change, apart from actually making it interactive…

Is Blizzard racially profiling its customers? Until recently I would have argued no, but recent experience makes me wonder. I am now inclined to a suspicion that the super-politically correct maker of World of Warcraft may perhaps be profiling its customers based on little more than location and perhaps on ethnic names within the game. (more…)

Ever woken up, 2am, with a cold sweat on your brow, the slime of the tentacles in your dreams still fresh on your chest? Scratches from that terrible, gnarled proboscis as it grates out from your perforated skull? Heart pounding, mouth dry and gummy as you reach down to see if it’s all still there? Or, horribly, if something is now there that wasn’t before? Groping blindly for the plasma rifle under your pillow, then remembering – with a panic so profound it’s almost like a bowel movement – that the battery pack is shot to hell and there’s no charge? Then remembering with even greater horror - that plasma rifles don’t actually exist? (more…)