I have been made soft by my time on consoles. I wasn’t ready to admit it until now, but I can feel it in my bones. Like an arthritic old race horse being asked to gallop into a glue factory, I have been left broken by my journey through the Red Orchestra 2 (RO2) multiplayer beta. Each session leaves me gasping and bewildered, much like the soldiers who fought for months in the shattered city of Stalingrad where this game takes place. In that way, I imagine, Tripwire Interactive is meeting one of their design goals.

No matter how many deaths I have in a round, no matter how much I am incapable of landing even the simplest full-auto shots unassisted by auto-aim, I just can’t stop playing this game. And in this way they are clearly meeting another of their design goals.

The meticulous care with which Tripwire re-created this time in history shows that they respect these soldiers and the war they fought, and that means a great deal to me. All the time I’ve spent mowing down “a-rabs” in Modern Warfare 2 and locusts in Gears of War now feels disingenuous and immature compared to these battles. I do not imagine that a platoon of German grenadiers, given the opportunity, would kick back in the barracks with RO2 the way our troops do with MW2. And that’s because multiplayer MW2 doesn’t feel like war, while RO2 very clearly does.

In Wheaton, 30 minutes west of Chicago, sits Cantigny Park. The estate of the Chicago Tribune’s patriarch, the late Colonel Robert R. McCormick, it is home to the First Infantry Division Museum. The U.S.’s first and longest continuously serving regular Army division, the Big Red One has participated in WWI, WWII, Vietnam, and every major military action since I was born. The museum is a fixture of the western suburban middle school curriculum. Trips through its halls are as common to Illinois’ pre-teens as trips to the Adler Planetarium, the Field Museum, and the Museum of Science and Industry.

I have personally, on multiple occasions, “rode” inside it’s LCVP cum movie theatre, experienced the dramatic dropping of the craft’s doors that serve as the gateway into the museum experience. I have reached out and touched the .50 cal shell casings laminated into the simulated Utah beachhead. I have stared in wonder at the waxy mannequins, bedecked in period uniforms, that serve as waypoints along the tour. Between my PBJ and string cheese I have straddled the barrel of the weatherized relic of an M-24 Chaffee tank hulk, a majestic vessel rusting into its concrete plinth. But in all the trips I have made to this museum I have never learned about war like the war portrayed in Combat Mission: Battle for Normandy.

After years in development, it was nice to finally see The Witcher in fighting form at Gen Con. With a large chunk of the game playable, I ran through the first 30 minutes and checked out some of the later parts of the story.

I sat down to write a review -- a preview really -- of Flight Simulator X from Microsoft. I thought it would just be fun, 'cause hey, I love Flight Sim. I thought it would be cute to talk about the good old days, before I lost my pilot's license, so I pulled my logbook down from the shelf. That's when I realized two things:

1: My log book is over the shelf on my desk. I haven't opened it in years, but still, no matter how I rearrange my office, it's within arm's reach. This is an entirely unconscious act. I can't even remember putting it there.

2: It's been exactly ten years to the day since I first learned to fly.

Jacob "Prederick" Flanagan was pressed into service this week to take one for the team and spend over four hours playing Elder Scrolls: Oblivion on the Xbox 360. I know, I wanted to kill him in a jealous rage too but he did write this very honest and comprehensive preview, so we'll let him live. It's worth noting that while he knows of the Elder Scrolls series, this is the first time he has played a game in it. Call it a very fresh perspective, something you won't find in many places on the net. Enjoy!