Daily Elysium: ill informed
Well, weÃ‚'re finally winding down from a busy week here, which on other weeks might mean itÃ‚'s time to break out the micro-brew, get drunk, and play online team games. But, really, the net can only take so many drunken renditions of Metallica covers over voice-chat before the magic is gone, so instead Certis and I simply prepare our hybernation chambers and enter into a dreamless death-sleep for the next two days. I should point out, IÃ‚'m on some unpleasant cold medication while writing this, and the world is a disturbing swirl of bright lights and high pitched whines, so read on at your own peril for a slightly skewed perhaps hallucinogenic weekly recap.
First, what the hell is up with Sudafed. Am I crazy or does Sudafed merely take a person from one state of sickness to an equal quality sickness but adds a sensation like being on speed in a windtunnel? I now know what a power transformer with a headcold feels like. Maybe I should save pharmaceutical companies the trouble and just plug my ass into a wall socket. IÃ‚'ve had less of a buzz from drinking Long Island Ice Teas on a Tilt-a-Whirl.
But, I digress (evolutionarily speaking, perhaps).
Thursday was a huge day for us. Of course, as posited by physicist and eminent hair stylist Albert Einstein, everything is relative. While yesterday would have been a dismally slow day for much bigger sites like Gamespy, or Bluesnews, a day that very well may have found their webmasters panhandling on the street with a tin coffee cup and a stench of desperation that would drop a water buffalo at fifty paces, for us it was a volume that might have perhaps elicited an enthusiastic "high-five" had Certis and I lived closer to one another. It was, in fact, our highest traffic day yet, and we hope to see at least three or four of our nineteen visitors back very very soon. I wish I could take much credit for our successful turning of virtual tricks, but itÃ‚'s hard to miss when you have someone as thoughtful as our interview guest.
All things considered, it was a relatively weak week (alliteration is fun!) for gaming news, so we were happy to produce some original content. There was a .plan update by His Majesty Lord Carmack I, whom I suspect to be the real Kwisatz Haderach. An .plan, I might add, which IÃ‚'m pretty sure was written in some form of broken Yiddish. There were temper tantrums followed by some Olympics worthy backtracking over the announcement that Unreal II might not have a demo. And, of course, the not so surprising announcement that Knights of the Old Republic was delayed.
If anything really noteworthy developed this week, it was the release and relatively weak reviews for NvidiaÃ‚'s latest high powered, noisemaker technology. With the FX Nvidia grows ever closer to developing the first video card with its own propulsion system, allowing both for anti-aliasing and limited flight. Unfortunately, NvidiaÃ‚'s card is more accomplished at increasing decibel levels than providing a much improved visual experience. Fair or not, IÃ‚'m sure IÃ‚'m not the only one having flashback to the Voodoo 5. With the power of the GeForce 3 still able to run most games smoothly, and the GeForce 4's true power unrealized, I canÃ‚'t help but wonder, whatÃ‚'s the point?
Now, IÃ‚'m not ready to write NvidiaÃ‚'s epitaph, but ATI, a company that has weathered some pretty serious competition over the years, seems to be making a move. Their 9700 has a lot more positive buzz than the FX, and another perceived victory over the giant could turn the tide. However, ATI continues to be hampered by the problem that I could write a better driver in crayon on a hot sidewalk than ATI - I really love making baseless claims like that. I can sit up here on my little pedestal and ooze pompous invective over the hardworking anonymous coders over at ATI, and they can do nothing to topple me, NOTHING!
Obviously the Sudafed has taken control over several important lobes, like the frontal, the parietal, and small segments of the temporal. ItÃ‚'s demanding thirty thousand dollars and a case of Jack Daniels for the safe return of my mind or itÃ‚'s going to start mailing me amputated brain matter. I can fight it, though, through the power of liquids and a big blue blanket. If only those interns would get my damn juice.
Off to the blankie!