That Moist Plague
Every time I survive air travel, I kiss the precious Earth and swear grave oaths about ever boarding such a contraption again. I beseech nebulous powers whose existence I remember only when convenient. You would think that after so many successful sky journeys I would become enamored with the convenience and efficacy of it, but the way I actually perceive it is that I have an unknown (but limited!) number of flights total before I die in one, and each trip merely winds that diabolical mechanism.
It’s questionable that Gabriel should even be down here, as he’s pouring out disease from (what I presume to be) every hole. He manages to get sick every year, and he’s continued the tradition this time around with a deeper and more debilitating pox. Even in that ravaged capacity, the Electronic Entertainment Expo is still better than most things. Even shattered out on the concourse, looking up at it with your one good eye it paints a pretty picture.
The truth typically doesn’t emerge until later, and most of the time it never does, but if you think of E3 a billion dollar puppet show it will help you contextualize the spectacle. Tightly scripted scenes prop up a spawling technological void - the “game of show” stretched tight over thin hints about the way such a game might actually operate. There’s good things, too - this will be my sixth year here, clearly it is not without its charms. The earnest, brilliant developer sequestered in Kentia Hall. The look of mischief as a developer deviates from the script, executing his dangerous and unauthorized modules.
What often gets shown here isn’t just what they want you to see, but also what they wish were true about their game and perhaps games in general. Like any entertainment medium, one must be a willing partner in the spectacle for it to achieve its sublime potential - and in this regard, I am an exemplary participant. Each carefully buffed proto-game legitimate. Row upon row of idealized mechanics and theoretical rendering, and I believe the best in each of them, as though they were each cherished but naughty nephews.
you could be heading for the serious strife