J Nash

One of my more endearing foibles, along with helping wasps and setting fires, is my lack of perspective. If there's an element of sense anywhere in an undertaking, any kind of clarity of judgment of whether the game (not a computer game) is worth the candle, I'll be at the opposite end of the universe, strutting to starboard with cheery bulbless purpose, implacably crashing on when there was no goal to begin with, let alone one to lose sight of when redoubling an effort.

Obviously, this makes me ideal for reviewing a game (not an aphoristic game), as the complete terror that I haven't played something enough to be fair to it, and that the moment after the moment I stop it could become tremendously better or plexus-flagpolingly worse ensures I'll carry on beyond the limit of all rational powers until I'm convinced the review is ready to write. There is a slight flaw in this plan though I'm sure I don't know where and anyway that Bloodnet review will definitely be done by Tuesday so belt up bignose.

In natural science terms this dimwitted undeflectableness is called something like the "energy/effort ratio," nibbly sums determining if the bother of obtaining food outweighs the calorific benefit of scoffing the result. In this transposition, I would be picking satsumas on high branches by building an adjacent tree from bits of twig to reach, an approach splendid also for adding tiny bits but passing vexy in generalities as I am unequipped to spot the difference between (for example) "Invest a month in writing a several of saleable pieces" and "Spend the full thirty days on a single Back Page for PC Gamer";* I'd respond to both suggestions with a "Hurrah!", a rampaging concentration of vitalities, and unaroused suspicions, pursuing to destruction whatever notion my mind-y gaze falls upon regardless of merit. (Come to think of it, AP2 is also a dead giveaway.)

Twirruping vim for digging through planets, that's the J Nash way. Hurrah! No wonder I speed above the clouds in my Zeppelin made of diamond-plated gold.(Hang on, "Come to think of it"? - Ed)