By using a little common sense and a lot of strong writing, Prey absolutely hits the nail on the head in its representation of gay characters. The folks over at Arkane Studios are proving to be one of the most capable storytellers in the business with genuinely inventive twists. Even the mimics, Prey’s lowest level enemies, defy their skittish facehugger-like appearance with the ability to mimic any object in the vicinity. As collecting objects is essential, this makes every interaction unsettling.
It’s not that Prey is particularly inventive or even subtle in representing its gay characters but it avoids dimwittedly making a fuss about it. Sexual orientation isn’t of particular importance to the central sci-fi narrative, so it is appropriately not overplayed. That said, Prey is far from coy about its gay characters. They are simply present. Frankly, it’s the finest approach to the woefully unrepresented and misrepresented issue of sexual orientation. Continue reading
This blog was originally written on 01/08/2016
I feel fat. Full and fat.
Last week I ate a pizza a day before going vegan. From frozen pizza to wood oven calzones, I ate myself pizza silly so that I’d be sick of the damn things.
Only problem, it didn’t work.
After one of the best calzones in my life, the lowest point of the experiment was eating at the recently opened Ciao Bella pizzeria on the famous Surrey Street in Croydon.
It’s a laidback cafe/takeaway with a very different vibe to the gimmicky rustic ambience of most London pizzerias. You don’t drink from a mason jar, cutlery isn’t kept in old mustard tins and there are no condescending 20-year-olds with thick-rimmed glasses. Christ, it even had fairy lights on the wall. I instantly fell for the ‘we don’t give a fuck enough to be cool’ vibe.
Prisma also came out for Android, so you know…
But how was the pizza? Continue reading
Underground: it’s a peculiar word that raises as much disdain for what is cool as it does in fact specify what is cool. Many things are underground: a swick Shoreditch bar with pineapple themed décor; fiber wire that Virgin refuses to connect within a reasonable timeframe; potatoes.
The word brings a multitude of images to mind, but nothing as vivid or terrifying as the blight on man that is the London Underground.*
Grab the lube, this is going to be a squeeze.
You haven’t experienced London until you catch the Tube between 07.45 and 09.15. Flustered and sweaty before the day begins, this is the equivalent to running a marathon before, well, running a marathon.