In a courtroom yesterday, games-maker THQ was dissolved and its assets individually sold off to the highest bidders. Lots of people have lost their jobs, and that just fucking sucks. Plenty of others have found new homes and, if their luck holds, bright futures in their new digs. Reading about how the company has fallen, what precious parts were plucked to safety as it was felled, and what didn't, left me with a mixture of emotions. All odd, like.

AND HERE'S WHY.

Hi, I'm Adam from ten years ago. Ask me what I think of THQ. Go on.

They're a bit rubbish, innit. WWF and stuff, right? Pfft.

Hi, I'm Adam from right the hell now. Ask me what I think about THQ.

They've published, financed, and directly control the creators of some of my most favourite games.


Forza Horizon! Far Cry 3! Asura's Wrath!


The last few weeks were fucking fantastic. You know what I did? Nothing. Productivity reached an all-time low. Why? Far Cry 3. Do I feel guilty? No, because Far Cry 3? It's fucking fantastic.

I started writing this a week ago, and then took a short break before I finished it off to play Forza Horizon, which had been sitting in its polythene wrapper for months. And now it's a week later and I don't know where the time went. So I suppose I'd better talk about Forza Horizon, too. Oh, and Asura's Wrath. Which I played all of Boxing Day because I was in bed with food poisoning and needed something undemanding.

So herein is the summary of the week beginning Monday the 26th of November. And the week beginning Monday the 3rd of December. And Monday the 10th. And, um, the 17th.



Far Cry 3 has been out for a few weeks now, and the internet is fast filling up with Far Cry 3 related opinions, just like it did last year after Skyrim's release, and if I don't write something soon the internet will reach saturation point and there'll be nothing interesting to say that hasn't already been covered on some random blog or another. For the sake of my own ego, I have pledged my random blog to be one of them.


Call of Duty (yet again)! The Walking Dead!


This Play Time is a little later than the previous two because, for a week after publishing the last, there was nothing new to say. I played yet more Need for Speed: Most Wanted, Call of Duty: Black Ops II and Halo 4. My opinions on all haven't changed (they remain excellent), and I've no great new insight to share regarding any of them.

Well, except for Black Ops II. Oh, and then I bought The Walking Dead. Here is the story of the (artificially extended) week, starting Monday the 19th of November 2012.


Call of Duty! A different Call of Duty! Need for Speed (again)! Halo 4 (again)!


Last week was a good week for games. I mean, a really good week, and I didn't fully appreciate that until this week, which had some spectacular low points along with a couple of highs.

Herein lies the tale of the week, starting Monday the 12th of November 2012.


Need for Speed: Most Wanted! Halo 4!


Pick it up, dust it off, switch it on and by jove the old blog still works. I've been playing some games over the last few months. Well, quite a few, really. So I thought it would be a good idea to type what I thought about those that currently inhabit my play time.

So, here we go for the week starting Monday the 5th of November 2012.

You don't have to play Dynasty to have an attitude.

Remember Primal Scream therapy? It was popular a while back. John Lennon was into it. All these repressed neuroses lurking inside us, messing us up from within, could be brought bubbling to the surface by standing fast and making a noise like you’ve just stepped out of bed and onto a hairbrush. Anyway, if that’s meant to be some kind of release, it sucks. Men – manly men – have known for millennia that the best way to sort it all out mentally is to thump something hard and repeatedly. If you can swear while doing it, that’s fine, but combatively pacifying the most immediate thing in your vicinity is the key, here.

A generation of sitting in darkened living rooms thumbing gamepads rather than chopping wood means this generation of men is inadequately built to engage in such physical pacification; the best we can hope for after limply punching a wall for ten minutes is that our knuckles have attained a slightly pinkish sheen. Even then, that wouldn’t do, because it would make it harder to hold the pad for more than a couple of hours and that’s no good at all. Happily, Dynasty Warriors provides, and has always prided itself on providing, thousands of handily placed things to whale on in this most time-honoured tradition without ruining your shoulder-button fingers.