The sound of one hand clacking: my time as a (slightly, and temporarily) disabled gamer

Yes, this is my arm. No, I don't have terrifyingly prominent veins - that's pen from where they marked my arm up before my operation!

They say you never miss the water until the well runs dry. Which may be true, but who are ‘they’ and why don’t they just use the tap like any normal person, or if thirsty just buy some Um Bongo? What are they, medieval peasants?

Of course, I’m joking – it’s just a figure of speech like “He who has rubber arms can’t lift a bag of spuds, but he’s a cracking bodypopper!” and “Stop touching that, it’s already bleeding”. In this case, it means people often take things for granted. And oh look, here’s a silly arse who did that coming along now: me.

To cut a long story short (because as you’ll soon realise, typing is literally and figuratively a right pain for me at the moment), a few weeks back I fell awkwardly on to some concrete and well and truly buggered up my right arm – which is my ‘doing’ arm, assuming I want to do whatever it is I’m doing with any level of accuracy and competence. Broken bone sticking out, an operation, pins in my wrist and everything.

This was all very unpleasant of course, but counterintuitively I feel I’ve got off quite lucky aside from the actual fall itself. A bit to the left and I could have hit my head on a wall instead, a nastier break and I could have been looking at having a steel plate in my arm, and without the brilliant swift work of the NHS I could have had a rampaging infection and ended up having to have my arm lopped off – or worse.

I’m merely in minor discomfort and inconvenienced for a bit as opposed to a life-changing (or ending) incident, and I’m grateful for that. But still, what I *do* have for the next fortnight, and have had for the last 3 weeks, is a sodding great cast on my arm and a lot of unexpected free time.

Usually, free time = gaming time. Whee! But then usually, I’m not wearing a concrete glove with nails in my wrist either. Although I can use my fingers, I can’t turn my wrist at all, I can’t raise my thumb up, I have limited strength in all the above because of my busted skelly parts, and I have to have my arm supported or it starts to ache pretty quickly.

Suffice to say, this does not make for the ideal gaming ‘stance’.

However, Love Island is on the telly and they stopped giving me morphine when I left hospital, so as no one should have to sit through that without access to powerful sedatives I obviously had to do something to adjust, and fast. Hence my somewhat eye-opening intro to accessibility in gaming.

We’ve all seen those controls on our console menus, computers and phones, after all – but how do they measure up when you’re relying on them?

My first attempt was just to fiddle with controller layouts via the PS4’s accessibility options that let you swap button placements, so any button can become any other button; the theory being you put the most used buttons near your strongest fingers. This can help, but it’s frustratingly limited – you can’t assign a button to act as a shift key so others can double up, or bind 2 buttons to 1 (this is apparently to avoid people giving themselves a fractional speed advantage by e.g. binding ‘aim’ and ‘shoot’ to the same button).

Whatever the reason, the upshot is you still need to have the same number of digits available to press the same number of things. Only now they’re also in a confusingly different order that doesn’t match on-screen prompts either.

PC-wise, keyboards are much better for shuffling which key does what, but on the flipside mice are far worse. To give you an idea of how this feels, try holding your mouse arm in the position you’d hold a can of drink or a mug. Then, turn it so you could use a mouse but keep your wrist still – i.e. do all the pivoting with your shoulder and elbow through 90 degrees.

Comfy? Unlikely. At best, you’ll look like someone doing half of the worst chicken impression ever. Trackpads are more usable, but fairly lousy for any gaming shenanigans much livelier than point & click adventures.

The mini controller has the added bonus of looking a bit like a robot's face! Should you need to give a robot a face transplant or something.

I did partially solve this by buying an upright mouse: basically, a mouse on its side with the optical bit stuck on what’s now the bottom. It means I can now at least use my computer to do stuff like write this article without entirely relying on my flailing left hand, but fine control with a busted wrist and a drainpipe bolted on to your forearm still isn’t easy.

Eventually, I settled on a combination of a new mini controller for the PS4 intended for the small hands of kids that meant I was stretching a lot less for buttons, and actually changing my play style in some games. Anything where I had to hold down a trigger was off the menu, so auto rifles in shooters were swapped for single shot weapons. As I don’t have pedals, driving games were right out. And vibration? Unless you like real bad cramp on a skeletal scale, I’d turn that off too.

(As an aside, one of the strangest sensations I’ve had was when I tried using an electric toothbrush in my right hand – the vibes went straight through the pins into my bones and made me make an involuntary “Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnggg” noise, like I was a massive buzzer.)

The best options though without needing to buy new (and potentially expensive) kit – that I’m hugely appreciative of – were Nintendo and mobile. Mario Kart, for example, has auto drive features intended mainly to help kids get to grips with a game before mastering manual controls. But they’re an absolute boon for the knackered of limb too. Well-implemented motion controls were also winners here – the twitchiness of Doom would be unplayable on a PS4 for me just now, but with the JoyCons on the Switch it was no problem. I even managed OK with Mario Tennis.

...OK, and hands up who's not having fun and is just terrified by modern technology?

I’d always (daftly) assumed it was simplicity and intuitiveness that gave the Wii such cross-generational appeal. But now I appreciate it’s not just that – being able to aim a Wiimote (or now, a JoyCon) using your whole arm is so much easier than a joypad thumbstick if you’ve got limited movement range in your hands.

Single touch or limited swipe games on my phone have also scratched my gaming itch without requiring painful contortions – and they show how mobile has really become a unique platform of its own because of the control options developers have had to adapt to and develop. There are the obvious big hitters like Monument Valley or Alto’s Odyssey, but even fairly sophisticated platformers such as Oddmar can be played one-handed.

The biggest praise must go to Microsoft though, and their new adaptive controller. It’s not cheap, and granted I haven’t used it and given I’ll be cast free in a few weeks I won’t need to. But the fact it even exists is frankly ruddy great – even my brief period of limited limb incarceration has made me realise how lucky most of us are, and appreciative of flexibility in control schemes.

Now THOSE are some buttons.

Because the truth is, my need for accessibility tech is laughably short-lived, and the chances are that’ll be the same for most people reading this if they ever find themselves in a similar situation. For a lot of people though they’ve either always needed more options, or they haven’t got off as lightly as I did and will have to make permanent changes.

Assuming we’re all cool with gaming being as open and inclusive a hobby as possible – and if you’re not, please proceed at your earliest convenience to repeatedly kick yourself up the backside for an indefinite period – then it’s these people we need to listen to.

Accidents and personal situations aside, none of us are getting any younger either: in 10 or 20 years time I can’t see why I would have gone off gaming, but with another decade or two’s wear and tear I might have to take stuff like RSI or carpal tunnel a lot more seriously. Unless you’ve got a magic mouldering portrait in your attic, decrepitidy awaits us all.

So while there’s more to do, it’s great to see companies really starting to think about this and look at different people’s needs to make gaming as inclusive as possible. Only some of us may need a little help – and in some cases only for a bit – but we all benefit from having more people able to enjoy gaming, and it may help all of us enjoy gaming for longer. We might even not only live to see Half-Life 3, but be able to play it!

(While you’re waiting for old age and/or a horrible accident, if you have a few quid to spare why not think about bunging it the way of Special Effect? They’re a fab charity who help people with physical disabilities get into, or back into, gaming. Ta!)

EIGHT MEGA-SKILL THINGS WE CAN EXPECT TO SEE ON THE PS5

This article originally appeared on Digitiser2000.com

Like some sort of technological Dignitas, Sony have announced that the PS4 is officially in the end part of its life cycle. It’s arguable that belching out such a diktat while your competitors respectively have a more powerful console and a more innovative console for sale, and you’ve not even got anything announced yet, is a real stupid move that will give potential customers ‘the wet willies’. But then who are we to argue with the genius creators of the MiniDisc?

However, to get you ‘pumped’ for the newest arrival in the format wars we can bring you these exclusive facts about the all-new PS5 thanks to our special spies embedded at Sony HQ (and by special we mean they only exist in our minds – we don’t even know where Sony HQ is! Probably Uttoxeter?)

Each one is literally more true and fabby than the last, and here they come!

The new PS5 will be shaped like a panjandrum

​Sony are known for their ker-ayzee console designs, like making the PS2 look like a malformed domino and the PS3 like a miniature of your nan’s coffin. But the PS5 will be their maddest yet, as they’re making it in the shape of a dangerously unreliable rocket-powered explosive cart from World War 2! Take that, Microsoft, and your big boring slab of a device. USA! USA! USA!

​The PS5 will keep you ‘in the game’ by force feeding you sugar beets

​That’s right – no more need for expensive energy drinks or breaks for sleep to keep you sharp while gaming. The PS5 will be plumbed into a new nationwide Sony-owned network of pipes delivering sweet, unctuous beet slurry directly into your homes for a reasonable fee, and then straight into your bloodstream via an uncomfortable cannula. Where will the cannula be placed? On your frenulum!

​The PS5 will come with its own charlatan

​
Do you think VR is the most immersion you can get? Or the Nintendo Labo? Well wait to be blown away by the PS5, as it’s coming with a real-life confidence trickster who will squat lewdly in the corner of your lounge, and then during games where you have to deal with shady types he’ll unfurl and attempt to embezzle your pension while you play. For real!

​The PS5 will pay for itself by ‘mining’ bitcoins

​Bitcoin, the cryptocurrency no one understands that’s probably worthless or a total scam, is really trendy right now. So of course, the company that bought you the sexy, sexy Sport Walkman (the same, but yellow!) is all over this hottest of hot tickets.
​
Using it’s amazing processing power, the PS5 will ‘mine’ bitcoins while you sleep and send that cash straight to Sony to pay off your PS5. That’s right – the PS5 won’t cost you a penny, just ca. £9000 a year in peak rate electricity bills instead!

​The PS5 joypad is so complex, humans cannot comprehend it

​The Dualshock 4 is already a masterpiece of design, looking more or less exactly like Dualshocks 1 to 3 but of course costing more and with a ridiculous headlight. But the Dualshock 5 will be something else again!

To control the amazing experiences the PS5 can offer, the new joypad will have a mass of buttons, touch surfaces, analogue sticks and motion sensors – so many, it’s too much for the brain to understand without driving the user insane. Instead, your subconscious will simply perceive it as a puppy – except for some lucky gamers, who’ll immediately die of a cranial aneurysm instead.

​MAX ADRENALINE BUZZ!

​The PS5 will have an AI assistant called Belmont Potters

​Move over, Siri and Alexa! The PS5 is coming with its own awesome AI to help you with everyday tasks, and his name is Belmont Potters. But he’s not just there to help you remember when St. Swithun’s Day is or when to take your insulin – Belmont Potters is the consciousness of a local retired housing ombudsman, digitised without his permission!

He’ll grumpily respond to your queries by saying he doesn’t understand all this new-fangled stuff, where are his arms and legs now, and why don’t you ask him about party wall agreements or something he knows?

​Wowser! The cool kids will love him talking about boundary fencing laws during their Fortnite sessions – welcome to the Sony family, Belmont P!

​The PS5 is so powerful, its games will have to come on ambergris 

​We all know that Sony make the best custom games platforms.

​You know, if you ignore Nintendo’s ingenuity and Microsoft’s raw grunt and stuff. And the PS5 will take that to the next next-gen level by using lumps of ambergris – the wax-like substance secreted in the intestines of sperm whales that they later regurgitate into the sea – as the format for its games.

You might suggest that selecting an expensive, flammable organic deposit usually used as a base for perfumes as a storage media is a dreadful choice with no basis in fact, but then you’re not part of the visionary company that insisted on using the Spider-Man 2 font on the PlayStation 3 even though it looked awful! Discs and digital media are so last year, grandma – bring on the cetacean excretia era!

​As it’s main launch title, the PS5 will feature a genuinely good 3D Sonic game

​Ha! No, just kidding with this one of course. Even with the tumescent power of the super-sexxus PS5 we all know this is NOT POSSIBLE TO ACHIEVE.

Please, Colonel – can you tell me about almost 5 obscure pig-themed games?

This article originally appeared on Digitiser2000.com

Hello! My name is Mr Sausages. It's not an ironic name - I'm actually an awful cannibal, and love the porky taste of my own species!

I dunno about you, but when I think of retrogames I always think of pigs. Not because I particularly relate pigs with the distant origins of gaming, but because I have a terrible cognitive association disorder! I’m really quite ill!

Now that feeble setup is out of the way, let’s get on to the meat (specifically: pork) of this thinly-disguised listicle. That’s right: pointing and laughing at a load of rubbish old things, like a thoughtless maniac let loose in a geriatric care home.

1. Psycho Pigs UXB

This pig could be sticking 2 fingers up, which would be mega-rude. But then he only *has* 2 fingers, so hard to tell. If only there were some other way to judge whether he's an antisocial type...

A port of the arcade game Butasan, which was also known as Mr. Pig and Pig and Bombers (the latter of which could easily be the name of a trendy pub that would sell you artisan pork scratchings at £10 a bag, probably served in a trilby), this swinefest saw you mainly plodding about a single, largely featureless screen throwing bombs with timers at other pigs. Most likely until you died of boredom.

I mean, I’m not saying even the programmers thought it was dull, but they managed to get the name wrong and put “Psycho Pig” rather than the plural on the title screen. So clearly, they weren’t exactly enthused during development.

The only other thing stopping this game falling out of the hole in history’s trouser pocket and into the puddle of utter obscurity for many people is the questionable advertising campaign US Gold used for the home version, which featured a ‘page 3 stunna’ in just some pants holding a copy of the game.

It’s often said no publicity is bad publicity, but all this did is make people aware of “that terrible game with the advert where the lady has her bangers out”, whereas otherwise kids might have bought it on the basis of their own ignorance of its rubbishness. Major backfire in your face, sexist 1980s marketing types!

(Also: while researching this article I found out Butasan is the name of a type of butter substitute you can get in the Czech Republic. It doesn’t seem to be made of actual pig, though I assume might be palatable if smeared on some sausages.)

2. Pig Newton

With his gammony complexion, greed and strange hair Pig Newton sure does remind me of someone...

A pun on ‘fig newton’, which is a biscuit filled with fruit pulp that tastes of despair, Pig Newton was an early arcade effort by Sega based on a cartoon strip that’s somehow even more lost to the mists of time than this game.

You played a pig, presumably called Newton, who is of course up a tree hunting for a pig’s natural diet – bright blue freshly laid bird’s eggs that look disturbingly like buttocks. He can also drop apples on passing wolves who are trying to chop the tree down, and has to avoid squirrels.

It says a lot that a tree apparently growing 2 different types of fruit simultaneously is by far the least strange thing going on in this game...

Based on this mess, I can only assume the programmers of this game are entirely unaware of what a food chain is, or how they work. I’ve also got no idea why Newton appears to be cuddling a massive pile of mash with French fries embedded in it on the title screen either, but while doing this he gives you an unexpected flirty wink.


Somewhat fittingly given that coquettishness, it turns out disgraced comedian Louis C.K.’s production company was also called ‘Pig Newton’ – though of course he did considerably more than wink flirtatiously, the awful pervert.

3. Pig Out

Apart from anything else, I find it difficult to believe a pig would be granted a library card.

Subtitled ‘Dine like a swine’, this 3-player arcade effort sees your pig eating their way through various levels, consuming eggs (again with the eggs?), corn on the cobs, tacos and (bizarrely) Superman logos.

Once more, wolves are your main protagonists despite the fact they’d probably find it a lot easier to go for a sheep. Or, I dunno, just shove you aside and eat the tacos themselves. I thought wolves were supposed to be quite smart, but on the basis of their video game appearances and fictional attempts at breath-based demolition you’d have to seriously question this.

Heihachi the butcher's lewd facial expression does not lead me to want to sample his 'special bacon'.

The only other thing of note here is that the butcher who appears on the game’s character select screen appears to be Heihachi from the Tekken series of brawlers. He seems very happy with himself anyway, which I suspect would be at odds with most people who had to work in a shop selling ‘pickled pig’s feet’. Maybe being repeatedly punched in the face has removed his sense of smell?

4. Pigs in Space

Based on the well-known Star Trek spoof from The Muppet Show, this title demonstrates the surprising power and flexibility of the Atari 2600, and showcases why the new version of that console is such an exciting prospect.

Ha! Only kidding. Pigs in Space is an utter tragedy, and all copies of it should be kicked into an acrid swamp.

The '10' at the top represents the number of milliseconds it took Atari 2600 owners to realise they'd bought a complete duffer.

Comprising three shonky rip-offs of other games bolted together like a rancid Frankenstein, the first level sees you slogging through a dreadful Space Invaders clone playing a character who looks like a deformed Homer Simpson rather than a pig.

I mean really - they couldn't have done Ms. Piggy's body in white? It's harrowing enough her 'hair' now appears to be made of pig flesh.

Then, it’s on to a Frogger clone seemingly featuring a nude Ms. Piggy avoiding meatballs and…tapeworms? It’s anyone’s guess, given the 2600s putrid graphical prowess – though the nudity is surprising for what you’d assume would be a game aimed at a family audience. Then again, maybe this was a ploy to get 1980s dads to buy the game? I bet a few had a secret thing for Ms. Piggy.

Maybe the mud-coloured hole that makes up this level is a homage to the one Atari ended up burying all those ET carts in? 

Finally, you get to pilot your ship, which for all the world looks like a vase possessed by a demon, through a jagged brown pipe. While doing this, Gonzo clones throw sticks at you.

As if traversing an apparent giant lower intestine in a haunted pot wasn’t harrowing enough, your craft’s weapon only travels a tiny distance in front of it before falling off to the side like a wet hacky sack. This makes actually clearing the stage an excruciating chore, as you line up a succession of wobbly chip shots.

The most exciting thing about this game is that, according to the title screen, the developer was called HA! – although having played it, it might just be an Atari executive’s sarcastic expression of disbelief that you have paid for this shambling pile of badness. Still, pigs!

TOP 5 MISCARRIAGES OF JUSTICE IN CHASE H.Q.

This article originally appeared on Digitiser2000.com

Of course, in real life the giant arrows pointing at criminals are only visible to the police.

Back in the 1980s, life was simpler. Instead of all the rules and regulations cops have to ignore these days before tasering someone in the forehead, they could just cause mayhem and chaos on the roads and streets of the US of America while apprehending people who merely look like a wrong-un. All regardless of whether they had much in the way of evidence and all that. So, er, actually much the same as now, but let’s pretend it wasn’t for the purposes of this article, yeah?

Anyway, many people don’t realise it – mainly because it’s a complete fabrication – but the game Chase H.Q. is actually a digitised documentary of a day in the life of two such typical 80s ‘plod’. But what about the so-called villains they apprehended? Let’s take a look and see what REALLY happened when the cameras (arcade machines) were switched off (broke down after being repeatedly kicked by dank teens lurking in run-down seaside arcades).

Case 1: Ralph, the Idaho Slasher

First off, this clearly isn’t ‘Ralph’. Assuming the Idaho Slasher is a murderer rather than someone just known for their prolific urination, it’s pretty obvious that a serial killer wouldn’t own a flashy sports car – let alone an imported British one – as all their money would be spent on knives and knife sharpening equipment such as whetstones, leaving them barely enough to run a Honda Civic.

They'd probably have caught him even sooner if their car didn't have clearly oval wheels.

Plus look at this man’s face: what’s that strange white line down the side, and why is he so oddly open mouthed, like someone warming up to attempt to eat a large swiss roll in one go? And those odd, orange overalls? This is trendy 1980s America, with its shoulder pads and espadrilles, after all. No, there’s something up here.

VERDICT: A passing bin man framed by having an Easter Island statue mask glued to his face to make him look a bit like the killer in Halloween.

Case 2: Carlos, the New York armed robber

Now this is more like it. New York is quite big, and absolutely heaving with baddies (just take a look at any of the villain-sodden New York-based Spider-Man films such as Spider-Man,Spider-Man 2, Spider-Man 3, Another Spider-Man 2and Spider-Man: A Further Spider-Man only now Robert Iron Man Jr. as well). So to become notorious enough to be ‘the’ New York armed robber, Carlos must be hot stuff in the crime world. Or is he?

"Sir, you're accused of serious crimes - this is no time for a rendition of the YMCA!"

Take a look at this archive photo of Carlos’s arrest. For starters, now it seems he’s down for armed robbery AND murder, so the charges have been trumped up – probably to make him sweat and want to ‘flip’. We can also clearly see that he’s missing a finger on his left hand, and is wearing a terrible brown wig so is 100% definitely bald.

This makes me believe this is in fact none other than popular and now quite dead actor Telly Savalas, and these cops have abused their position to stop a famous person simply to get him to sign autographs and record voicemail messages for them to use on their mobiles in 20 years’ time. No doubt they got him to recite his famous catchphrase “Who loves your babies? Kojak. Kojak is the one who loves your babies!”.

VERDICT: Police corrupted by the glitz and glamour of Hollywood.

Case 3: A ‘gang’ of Chicago pushers

Now this is just getting silly. Since when has 2 people been a gang? They’re either the most pathetic gang since the Get Along Gang (because ‘getting along’ and not being openly hostile to your fellow club members is hardly the highest of bars to set yourself, let alone make the entire raison d’etre of your group), or this is yet another stitch-up by the boys in blue. Well, one of them is in blue at least.

"Never mind - at least we still have our gang membership cards!"
"Oh shut up."

What’s most disturbing here is that the right hand of the cop performing the search has punched straight through the trousers of the poor man in the green coat, and seems to have disappeared inside his anus. That shows a high level of panic and desperation in our suspicious sheriff.

VERDICT: Police officer is aware he will be shortly discharged from the force due to corruption, so is hastily self-retraining as a bovine veterinarian and getting some practice in on unwitting members of the public.

Case 4: The L.A. Kidnapper

It's the guy in the grey suit I feel sorry for. He clearly doesn't know where to look!

VERDICT: Scene too harrowing to comment.

Case 5: The Eastern Bloc Spy from Washington

Ah, the cold war – nothing like the fear of retaliatory nuclear attack resulting from a botched diplomatic incident to focus the minds of law enforcement. Or at least that’s what you’d hope, but no: our boys are off again, smashing cars off of the highway left and right in pursuit of justice.

So what does our secret agent from behind the iron curtain look like? A thin, shrew-like nasty such as V. Putin, or a blonde Natasha-style femme fatale?

In actual fact, he was really arrested for the heinous crime of going 'double denim'.

No, apparently we’re supposed to believe that no one thought someone blacked up and doing a terrible Bruce Springsteen impersonation (perhaps he sang Al Jolson songs in the style of ‘The Boss’?) was suspicious, and further that such a person could carry out espionage operations unhindered.

This is obviously yet another set-up job to cover for the fact the real spy must have got away, but we can at least cut our police friends some slack for putting an end to what we can only assume was an inexplicably racist and very confusing cover band.

VERDICT: Deserving of 20 years on fashion grounds alone.

NINTENDO LABO: VARIETY KIT

This review originally appeared on Digitiser2000.com

After doing this, IKEA furniture no longer holds any fear for me!

It’s hard to know where to start with something as left-field as Nintendo’s Labo kits. There’s the games, the ‘build’ experience, the extras, the genuinely fun little ‘how it works’ videos, and all the other Easter eggs and bells & whistles. Like the kits themselves, it’s not so much one thing but loads of parts all coming together into one hearty ‘activity soup’.

There is something I need to mention straight away though: this soup is PIPING hot. If you’ve come here expecting to see a cynical beatdown administered to a ‘silly cardboard kiddies toy’, then I’m afraid you will be horribly disappointed. Also: you are probably a joyless sack of curmudgeonly grump. There, I said it.

Because that’s the biggest thing about Nintendo Labo. Yes, it may be bits of card and that, but it’s all been distilled out of drips of more or less pure joy.

The Labo is of course not only fun for humans, but the ideal gift for a colony of paper wasps.

​We (and I’ve not gone all royal – for the benefit of this review, ‘we’ is me and co-reviewer: my daughter who is 7, and thus the voice of youth vs my arthritic ramblings) have the variety kit. This consists of a remote-controlled bug thingy, a fishing rod, a toy house, a set of motorbike handlebars, a piano and a chainsaw.

Except: I made up the chainsaw. But given how absurdly creative people are already being with homebrew designs, with everything from programming their own replica Game & Watch games to making an electric guitar, I’d give it a few weeks and then this’ll probably be true as well.

So far, we’ve made the bug (an easy built of 5 mins or so), the fishing rod (a good couple of hours on and off) and the house (ditto). While the complex builds can be long-ish, they were all good fun and never got tedious – like everything here, you can tell that they must have been tested and re-tested to be honed to perfection. Even the suggestions to take a break pop up just when you think “I might like a break soon” and when small people’s minds begin to wander.

Also, I can’t rate the way the instructions are broken down and presented highly enough – they’re perfectly pitched for kids to understand, but not boring or patronising for older dudes or adults.

Even so, I’d not suggest leaving young ones unsupervised, as some bits are fiddly so bent card and tears (both in the ripped card and wet eyes sense) may result. More grown-up kids should be able to do most of it themselves though, assuming they didn’t get drunk on cheap cider in the park after school.

This is almost certainly how Mozart got started. Only in his day, the kits would have been made of papyrus.

The builds themselves are marvellously realised, and surprisingly sturdy. They work like a cross between origami and Lego, but even as you’re putting things together you still can’t quite believe you’ve just made a working fishing reel, or a spring-loaded button, or a functioning lever out of nothing more than bits of flat card. It really does feel like some sort of papery alchemy.

That said, to get these so refined and spot on I can only assume Nintendo’s offices are knee-deep in cardboard prototypes and they must have lost at least a dozen staff members to papercut exsanguination. RIP (Ha! Rip, see? Like card? Oh fine, be like that.)

Anyway, once assembled each kit has its own games or activities, and each of these in turn has a plethora of hidden features, videos on how it works, ideas for other things you can do and so on. In some of these, Nintendo has pulled off the almost impossible and made learning fun – seeing exactly how the toy-cons function is fascinating, and again the level is pitch perfect. Getting a 7-year-old to enthusiastically watch a video about how an IR camera works is no mean feat.

I could prattle on, but I think you’re getting the gist. So here are just a few examples of why Labo is so flippin’ great. First off, yesterday my daughter, myself and my parents (both in their 70s) were playing the fishing game. No one needed any explanation or instructions how things worked, and we all had a blast hoisting unwilling mackerels to the virtual surface.

(For context, my Mum is so technically inept she once tried to insert a floppy disk into a CD drive, and despite owning the PC in question for years was adamant that it “used to take them before”. In fact the only other console she’s ever played on was the Wii, and in doing so she accidentally bowled my wiimote into the TV.)

This is super-obscure, but the RC bug reminds me a lot of the baddie robots in a 1990s Tom Selleck film I can't remember the name of. Only Nintendo's ones don't squirt acid at you (yet - that's probably coming later in the year).

Second, my daughter really wants to find out if her friends at school also have Labo kit so they can race their bugs, and wants to set up obstacle courses in the dark to test the bug’s IR camera ‘eye’.

Thirdly, I’m in my early 40s and so hardly the target audience. And yet I’m obsessed with catching a swordfish. I also can’t wait to make the electric guitar, and am desperately trying to figure out a way to justify buying the giant robot kit. Because who the hell doesn’t want a giant robot costume/avatar?

Plus of course, this is just the tip of the iceberg. There are loads of other toy-cons in the pipeline, there are already thriving forums making up new ways to use the software, and third-party kits are already appearing too. From a business point of view, Nintendo have kicked off the sort of peripherals market and community usually more associated with Apple pretty much overnight.

None of this would matter though if Labo didn’t work, and by all rights a pile of cardboard coupled to what’s basically a custom tablet sounds like an entry you’d find in a book called “Gaming Gimmick Hell” sandwiched between the Joy-Hat 6000 (the only hat that’s also a joystick!) and Sega’s ill-fated “Sonic-branded enemas – for when you need to ‘go’ real fast.”

I tell you what. I'm going to get a bloody sailfish if it kills me.

​Against all the odds though, it does work. It’s fun to make, easy and fun to play, it’s genuinely educational (heck, schools are approaching Nintendo to get Labo in classrooms to teach coding – Sony and Microsoft would kill for that sort of foot in the door), it has short-term appeal in the builds and games, and potentially huge longevity in the toy-con garage that allows you to hack about your own ideas.

But above all that stuff, it’s a shared experience everyone can enjoy together. Which, yes, sounds twee – but the enjoyment I’ve had watching the fun my daughter has had is a huge part of it. At her age many games are still too tricky or demanding, or simply unsuitable. This is something we can both play and do together, on equal terms.

It’s hard to sum things up without it degenerating into a list of clichés and superlatives, but Labo is Nintendo doing Nintendo turned up to 11 and then some, and making Herculean levels of creativity and polish look practically effortless. Years from now, when stuff like the shiny new God of War is just an entry on some people’s favourite retro game lists, there’ll be lifelong Nintendo fans who got hooked on gaming, and perhaps coding, because of Labo.

Ultimately this isn’t a game or a toy – this is a gateway drug. And it’s chuffing genius.

ALTO'S ODYSSEY

"Just off to the shops for some...sandwiches! Sand, see? We're in a desert! Ha ha h-I'll get me poncho."

As well as being the name of a band of elderly men who regrettably dress in lewd clothing, 'KISS' is also an acronym for the phrase 'keep it simple, stupid'. Which is ironic, as it'd be a lot simpler to just say that than say 'KISS' and then have to explain it every time you meet someone who hasn't heard of it. Also, they might initially think you want to kiss them, which could lead to all manner of hilarious 1980s BBC sitcom-style situations.

Regardless, the 'simplicity = good' intent is sound enough and certainly true when it comes to mobile phone games. Not overcomplicating things when you don't have physical controls is always a decent idea, as anyone who has tried to play a phone-based FPS will testify to. Most of your screen ends up obscured with virtual buttons, and after even a short burst of virtual joypadding you'll usually need to pause the game to clean off thumb grease to ensure everything stays responsive.

And that's just with your normal skin - don't even THINK about starting a game like that within an hour of eating a packet of crisps. A few seconds of being daubed with your oily digits, and it's the equivalent of playing on a home console where your TV screen has been liberally coated in Mazola.

That's why mobile games that need the minimum of interaction to control are this: the best. And Alto's Odyssey is one of the best of this best of bunch.

"Given the warm weather, I'm honestly starting to think the scarf was a mistake..."

Alto's Odyssey is essentially an endless runner-type game disguised as a snowboarding game, albeit on sand in this case. You have one 'button' (the screen) for the most part that makes you jump. Hold it down when you're in the air and you'll do a backflip. Hold it down against a grindable rock wall and you'll grind up it (which throws the law of gravity out of the window a bit, but in a game where you're constantly sliding downhill forever that's probably the least of our worries). There are simple power ups such as crash recovery items and, later, a wingsuit to allow for extra flips, and different characters to unlock who have differing attributes, but nothing that drastically affects the core gameplay of slidey-downeyness.

So really, that's basically it. But: saying 'that's basically it' is also criminally underselling the game.

The brilliance of Alto is how well it makes these simple mechanics work given the game is generating landscapes on the fly. Like the very best Mario titles, whenever you come a cropper you never feel hard done by - it's always your fault you mistimed your jump and hit a rock or failed to clear a chasm and you always feel like you'll be able to nail it next time. This is in stark contrast to many a mobile game, where iffy controls and/or iffy programming make it feel like you've got as much control as someone playing darts while wearing oven gloves and rollerblades.

There aren't any enemies in the game bar environmental hazards, with the exception of lemurs. Startle a lemur, and for some reason it will pursue you until it either catches you and kills you or it falls down a canyon like the idiot semi-monkey it is. And if you don't think lemurs are that violent, you'd be wrong - once at a safari park we spotted a lemur in the enclosure who had a missing arm. A passing zookeeper heard us talking and told us that the lemur in question had got a bit too cocky once and challenged the chief, and the alpha lemur had literally ripped his arm off and hit him round the head with it, Viz-style.

You didn't see THAT in Madagascar, did you?

"Granted I'm no air traffic controller, but this CAN'T be an optimal use of airspace?"

Murderous primate goading aside, the other element that will keep you coming back again and again are the challenges. These are issued 3 at a time (clear each batch and you go up a level) and can see you having to perform certain stunts, travel a set distance without stacking it, grind a specific bit of scenery and so on. These start simple but by level 20 or so they get fairly tricky. But again, always do-able - they never feel like artificial longevity barriers that have been made absurdly hard purely to impede progress.

Given the game has been out for a couple of months now (on iOS anyway - an Android version is still forthcoming), you might wonder why I'm reviewing it at all. Well the simple answer is, I realised the other day that this is the game I've been playing the most these last few months and so it probably deserved it. And I'm not playing it that much purely because of convenience either (although as it's on my phone that's undeniably a boon - not many people have a PS4 in their lavatory, after all). It's because I really, really enjoy it.

The ever-changing graphics are gorgeous. The music is calm and unintrusive, which is no mean feat given it's a loop of one track. But most of all it's just nice to play - really, really nice. It's fun, there's no massive pressure to do anything, no absurd, needless plot flapping along and no being pestered with microtransactions, adverts, side quests or the like. It's the gaming equivalent of a lovely Sunday evening radio show that plays chill-out music - and not one on a commercial network, where you'll be feeling all zen one minute and then listening to a pair of z-list actors fumble out a cack-handed joke about double glazing the next.

"This is going to hurt, isn't it?"

It's also an evolution of the endless runner in that it allows you to play it for longer if you wish. A lot of the 'classics' of this genre such as Jetpack Joyride are undoubtably fun, but enforce the short burst playstyle by increasing their speed until they're unplayable by all but the most heavily caffeinated of obsessive Korean gaming-addicted children. But here there's no difficulty ramp-up or need to have the twitch responses of a nervy bluebottle. You just keep going until you mess up, or you've just had enough.

Chances are you won't have enough of it for a very long time though, because it's great. And if you like great games that are fun to play and an absolute bargain, well then it's a no-brainer.

Some people might baulk at the fact that it's a mobile game you have to pay for, of course. But then it's worth bearing in mind that those people are also complete morons. You don't expect quality and no adverts and no microtransactions for nowt, unless you're an unreasonable, grasping bumface.

Please, sir or madam: don't be a bumface. No one likes a bumface.

WIPEOUT OMEGA COLLECTION VR

This review originally appeared on Digitiser2000.com

"I can't believe we've got anti-grav cars on floating racetracks but NO cupholders!"

'WipEout' may have been around in some form or other since the beginning of time (22 years), but that misplaced capital E still annoys the bejesus out of me. It just makes it read like it’s saying wip-E-out, and I for one am not ‘whipping’ my ‘E’ out for anyone. Especially not in VR, when I can’t see what’s going on around me and could be accosted while unawares by a passing deviant.

Also: what is that singular ‘E’ even supposed to represent? It could well be ‘egg’, and whipping an egg out would require a level of biological dexterity I’m not sure I’m capable of. At least not without major interspecies transplant surgery and a significant amount of strong hormone tablets. So yes: please fix this, Sony.

Typographical oddness aside, Wipeout Omega is neither a new release, nor is it even new stuff – it came out in June 2017, and is a cut-and-shut of Wipeout 2048 (a launch title for the much-neglected PS Vita) and 2009’s Wipeout HD/Fury for the PS3. So why are we looking at this dusty pile of well old antiques, guv?

"Danger? Danger, you say? I'm in a hover car on a track with no crash barriers hundreds of metres up in the air and I'm being shot at. Thanks a lot, no-shit-sherlock-o-tron!"

Well the clue is the aforementioned VR. Thanks to a free update, you can now play the game via the PSVR headset for an ‘in cockpit’ view. And this is no token gesture bonus VR level: this is absolutely everything from all 3 games in the collection in full, now re-tuned for immers-o-vision, for absolutely zero pence.

Given you can blag the base game for under £15 new, and many PSVR games are upwards of 30 quid for experiences so short that you miss 10% of the content while blinking, this is ridiculously great. Frankly, it’s the sort of bargain that’s usually associated with buying something that still has security tags on it off of a dodgy bloke out of the back of a dented transit in a pub car park at midnight.

But a bargain is only truly a bargain if it’s something worth having – I’m sure you can get season tickets for the local sewage works remarkably cheaply, but watching people literally polishing turds every weekend is hardly a substitute for a Disneyland annual pass even if it does cost less.

Thankfully, there is no excrement buffing here: Wipeout in VR is simply fabulous.

"I know it looks lovely and fast, but I tell you what - the boot space is murder. 7 round trips to space Tesco for a weekly shop."

I have no idea what digital witchcraft has been deployed, but the sharpness of the graphics, level of detail and smooth movement seem a cut above most PSVR games I’ve played. And that’s on a regular PS4 rather than a Pro. It looks as cool as the original Wipeout probably did to our crusty 16-bit eyes all those years ago.

Most astonishing of all, in a game that can make you feel a bit wonky playing normally because of its undulating tracks, vertical drops and loops, I experienced almost no VR sicky feelings. The only time I did feel slightly rough was after trying a max speed ship on a complex track, but even that was still far less than I’ve had in other VR games and could well have been down to my erratic driving.

To be fair, the game even pops up a motion sickness warning before you start on any particularly bonkers circuit that looks like it’s based on a pile of tagliatelle you’ve fished out of a bin, so you can’t say you’re not aware of what’s coming.

This isn’t all lovely visuals but no substance either, as the game is just as playable in first-person view as the traditional behind-the-ship stance. It is harder on later stages though: it’s way easier to get disoriented in VR because of your whole world going slantways if you’re hit by opponents or you drive into the walls.

Equally, it’s a little trickier to spot shortcuts and line up on powerups because of the low-slung stance. But in turn, having your eyes scraping along at barely more than ground level gives you a greater sensation of speed as well. And as an added bonus, in VR view you get to stare at your digital knees, should you wish to.

"Designer of new M6 toll road section comes under fire for being 'clearly very drunk indeed'."

Other than that slight bump in the difficulty curve though, there’s almost nothing here not to like. Weaving through the pack, guns blazing and turbo…er…turboing is a massive buzz. It feels like you’re getting a go on a go-kart track someone built on the set of Blade Runner, and then they threw in laser tag for good measure.

Like the original Wipeout was for the PlayStation, this is nothing short of a system seller for PSVR. Yes, it really is THAT good – and I’m sure the timing of its release to coincide with a permanent price drop for the hardware is absolutely no coincidence.

An essential for PSVR owners, a massive digital carrot dangling for those still undecided, and all for free. Good work, Sony. Now sort that E out.

BURNOUT PARADISE REMASTERED

This review originally appeared on Digitiser2000.com

"Hello, is that the AA? Yes, I may be having a bit of a problem in about 0.2 seconds."

When I was a kid, I had a friend who really, really loved Guns ‘n’ Roses. So much so, after he went to see them live he almost exclusively wore a vile tour t-shirt he bought. It featured a terrible drawing of a half-nude, partially dismembered zombie lady with enormous boobs who’d been tied to a pole for some reason.

It was, as the description hopefully imparts, utterly repellent. Yet, he wore it everywhere – even once to a wedding reception. In fact, it would only have been marginally more offensive if it had been a cartoon of Hitler kicking Gandhi in the teeth while simultaneously wiping his bum on the Turin shroud.

However, it also happened to have a verse of the song ‘Paradise City’ on it (the t-shirt, not the Turin shroud). This turned out to be a godsend, as my friends and I finally got this guy to stop wearing it by repeatedly singing stuff like “’Take me down to Welwyn Garden City’, ‘I haven’t got a car’ ‘Oh that’s a pity!’” at him.

Despite them being rubbishly innocuous jibes, we soon discovered our dissing his favourite band made him inexplicably furious. Of course, as we were teenagers and thus terrible human beings we all found this hilarious, so we kept it up until he eventually crumbled and wore something less grim to stop the mockery.

The moral of that story though? Never take yourself too seriously when you’re not doing (or wearing) something remotely serious in the first place. And that, ladies and/or gents, is kinda why Burnout Paradise: Remastered is long overdue and so very much appreciated.

"What do you mean, 'This does take diesel, doesn't it?' - have...have you? Oh fffff..."

Driving games, see, have for reasons unknown been divided into 2 categories with almost no deviation from type for what feels like the best part of a decade - which would be about right, given BP:Roriginally came out 10 years ago.

On the one hand, you have your sim-heavy efforts. You know the sort: games where you have 9 billion real-world car variants recreated in such detail it took 20 programmers over 6 months to create the 3D key fob models. Yes, you can probably tweak everything upwards of the wattage of the bulb that illuminates the glove compartment to your liking, but these games are as follows: boring.

On the other hand, you have your ‘Fast & Furious’ knock-offs. Stupid, brash games with some mindless plot (usually about an undercover cop, or a heist, or an undercover cop reluctantly pulling off a heist) and lots of missions, tasks and plot-regurgitating cutscenes. These games are also this: boring.

Both categories have something in common though: their clinical and cynical po-facedness. It’s all about the most cars rendered most accurately, or the most races, or the most perfectly recreated city street.

"For the last time, we are being CHASED by the POLICE. It is NOT a 'sports ice-cream van' and they will NOT give you a choc-ice!"

At some point, developers seem to have forgotten gaming is best when it’s sheer escapism, and further when it doesn’t try and force you to empathise and bond with a bunch of tedious ‘cool’ characters who have all the depth of a sheet of A4.

Where’s the fun? Where’s the messing about mid-race with your mates just for the heck of it? Where’s the speed that makes your eyes water? Where’s blowing up a lorry with a flaming wreck, then being back underway in a race seconds later? I’ll tell you where it is: in this game, thank criminy.

Turns out Burnout Paradise wasn’t just ahead of its time with its fusion of old-school arcade action and an open world. It was effectively the end of time, as it’s still one of the best interpretations of how to do it. All the good stuff, none of the faff. And this version is the best interpretation of that interpretation, so to speak.

The main game is here of course, with polished-up graphics (not a full rework like Shadow of the Colossus, but still perfectly adequate given the speed you’ll be looking at them shift) and all the DLC – and that’s a lot. And, of course, online play, offline play and an absolute ton of stuff to do, find and set records for.

Yes, it’s simple: drive fast, take your opponents out, and win. But the driving action Criterion made their name with is still absolutely spot on, and at the top levels the sensation of speed is phenomenal. Most of all, it’s pure, absolute fun.

Sure, all the cars may be made up. But for the 99.999% of us who mercifully aren’t hungerpunching manbaby J. Clarkson, this makes no difference whatsoever. I couldn’t tell you with any confidence whether the handling or interior of a Ferrari XP-9Fx track edition was realistic in a game or not, because I’m never, ever going to drive one. For all I know it could be the inside of a bus.

Similarly, and just as pointlessly, why insist on bolting a crappy story onto a driving game?

"Is this a good time to mention I only have my provisional moped licence?"

In a mindless popcorn film it might work as a loose device to hold together stunt sequences, but a driving game should be first and foremost about driving – I couldn’t care less whether ‘Mendoza’ has ‘disrespected your crew’ so revenge now needs to be taken via a series of ever-more lurid street races. If you’re so fussed about bloody Mendoza, you’ve got a car. Run his cat over or something.

I only have 2 reservations, really: a brand new, proper Burnout game would of course be even better, and it’s not the holy grail that would be a full beans ground-up remake of the greatest driving game of all time (obviously that’s Burnout 3: Takedown – and no, that’s not up for debate).

But: the fact a 10-year-old game feels like a breath of fresh air shows that the driving game genre is in desperate need of a kick up the trunk (or, as we call it in the UK of course, the ‘car anus’).

It may have been up on bricks in a shed since 2008, but with barely more than a new paint job Burnout Paradise roars back past the current bunch of limp pretenders to the racing throne.

Horrrsseepowerrrrrrr!!! (That’s what Clarkson says when he’s aroused by Hammond or May, right?)

SKYRIM VR

This review originally appeared on Digitiser2000.com

"Hello! Can I Interest you in a thermal shield? Lovely and warm on a cold day like today."

If you were looking for somewhere to go for tea and saw a restaurant review that said ‘Fabulous food, but we guarantee you will turn your buttocks inside out with the runs tomorrow’, then chances are – unless you’re astonishingly constipated and see this as a boon – you’d give it a miss and go elsewhere.

This guaranteed bum cloud to VR’s silver lining is its biggest problem: you know it’s an experience that more often than not is going to make you feel mildly queasy at the very least.

In fact, Mrs SBA was chatting to a friend the other day whose husband used to work as a games tester, and he mentioned when his team were bugfixing VR games – for whole days at a time – they all had sick buckets installed next to them in the office. And worse still, they all had to make use of them.

Say what you like about the glamour of stacking shelves in Lidl compared to playing videogames as a job, but at least needing a spittoon to periodically regurgitate into isn’t part of the deal with the former.

"Oh no! We've all worn the same outfit!"

This this DIY vomit comet effect is why I’d held off on buying Skyrim VR for ages because it tends to be games such as this, where you have full and free movement, that are the worst for bringing on ‘the pukes’. After all, why buy a game you can barely play before chucking up?

But as it’s currently on sale, my curiosity and eye for a bargain won out over my desire to not fleck my lounge carpet with stomach acid. So with scant regard to my oesophageal safety, I donned my absurd electric hat to bring you this review.

First off, yes: I was sick, but only a bit. Although that’s damning with faint praise really, as any level of being sick is still unpleasant – it’s about as preferable as being gently stabbed rather than run through.

To be fair the queasiness did improve over time, but if you find you’re particularly prone to the VR heaves I’d weigh up whether the perseverance is worth it: this may just not be the game for you.

"Look at the state of this breadknife. Have you been using it to spread ketchup on your sandwiches again?"

​What’s it like though when you’re not retching? Well, I’m not going to go into too much detail about Skyrim itself: that’s the same game it’s been since 2011, huge map and weird graphical glitches and all. This is more about whether VR brings ‘milkshake’ to Skyrim’s ‘yard’, or just a load of rancid curds in a slop bucket.

To that end, it’s certainly immersive. Walking through forests, villages and dungeons and having them all around you is amazing, and this is still VRs big, undeniable wow factor. You just don’t get the same sense of ‘being there’ wonder from a regular game, no matter how detailed or pretty it is.

Combat is also the same and yet much more; swinging your move controllers about to use your swords is hilarious (though of course, makes you look like a total clod in the real world). Using magic is the best though – whack out a few fire spells and you’re essentially doing virtual ‘Hadouken!’s all over the place.

The game in VR also has a very different feel. A skeleton with a spear popping out from behind a dungeon wall in regular Skyrim is a bit ‘Oh!’ if you weren’t expecting it. In VR, that ‘Oh!’ becomes a ‘Fffffuuu-waaah?!?!?’, followed by much panicked flailing. It essentially turns the world, and how you react to it, up to 11.

There are issues though, and quite a few of ‘em. Even though it’s an older game it’s still bloody ambitious for VR, and as it wasn’t built for it originally the transition has had some hiccups.

"Thanks for offering to cut my nails, Keith."

​For example, menus – of which Skyrim has about a trillion – can be clunky to navigate with your two bulbous wand controllers. Waving your arms about like a demented conductor just to try and select an option gets annoying quite rapidly. Especially if, as I did, you accidentally boop the cat on the nose while doing so and he then claws your hand. Actual wounding is too much realism, thanks.

Movement can also be a bit imprecise. Granted, you do get a choice – a sort of ‘click and hop’ approach where you move to a set waypoint, or a more free-moving option where your character ambles off in whatever direction you waft your controllers – but neither have the crispness of using a joypad. Consequently, finding yourself smacking into walls or stuck in doors is common.

As a result, you’ll more often than not be unable to enjoy the immersion as you’ll be blundering about with all the grace of a one-legged kangaroo who’s just eaten a bottle of hand sanitiser. This is especially true in combat, and fairly quickly that fun sword swinging will be ditched entirely in preference for much more effective (i.e. you can actually hit something) ranged attacks.

The visuals suffer too. The game works best in darker, enclosed locations simply because the PSVR doesn’t have the juice to render the world in high-res.

Inside is more or less fine. Outside, things at a distance can be blurry and opaque enough that it feels more akin to some sort of medical student training device to show them what it’s like to be a person living with cataracts.

"OK, Mr Walnuts. Sit. Sit. Sit! Good Boy!"

​I hate to use the term, but even though Skyrim VR is the full, unabridged game (and that deserves credit – no watered-down VR lite version here) it’s not best enjoyed as a game: it’s an ‘experience’. I’m a good few hours in but I can’t see myself finishing it as, even setting nausea aside, it’s just too cack-handed.

That makes it a bit of a waste, because you almost certainly won’t see anywhere near everything the game has to offer – and if playing Skyrim is what you want to do first and foremost, there are much cheaper and/or less bilious ways of doing it. Not least of which being the recent Switch port, which graphically runs rings round this version and has its own ‘immersion’ factor in its motion controls.

Plus of course you can play Switch Skyrim on the loo, whereas this version will have your head down the loo instead.

If you want to show off your PSVR and have a few spare coins knocking around, and can live with ALL the shortcomings, then sure – give it a go. There is fun to be had here, and doing stuff like having a tavern brawl in first person never gets old. Just be warned that actually getting to that virtual pub might make you vomit a lot more than a whole night spent on the gin in a real pub would.