I got a new dog. Her name is Flipsy and I adopted her from a rescue. I’d almost forgotten what it’s like to have a dog. I’d almost forgotten what my previous dog even looked like. Saya was afraid of cameras; Flipsy doesn’t mind them. I only hope I don’t get tired of taking pictures.
I’ve been playing Battlefield: Bad Company 2. I wrote a story about the multiplayer. I keep forgetting single player’s even there. I default to the Engineer kit because I like the M2 Carl Gustav recoilless rifle. I can’t hit helicopters with it yet, but it has a larger blast radius and less regard for gravity than other launchers. This makes it good against infantry and lightly armored vehicles. Players say Carl is overpowered. I think they’re forgetting the 40mm grenade launcher, the M60 light machine gun, and the mortar strike. Rock, paper, shrapnel — every kit has its gimmick.
I only wish DICE would fix auto-team balance. Many games are ruined when a team loses and half its players quit, leaving the remainder overwhelmed. And then the server’s dead. It happens every day and it’s terrible. But I love this game.
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If you know anything about me, you know that gaming is my passion. I love this medium. I love this artform. I love this industry. I feel fortunate to be alive during a time of such innovation in the melding of visual and interactive entertainment. But for the last few weeks, ever since the beginning and ending of E3 and its aftermath, I’ve been worried about the state of certain facets of our industry — namely, our gaming press.