You know, writing a blog ( known in today’s vernacular as ‘blogging’) is no easy task. Although it may appear to the untrained eye that I write the first thing that comes into my head without even glancing for bad punctuation, grammar use or syntactic errors, I actually don’t.

But even disregarding the technical aspect of ‘blogging’ (blogging! What will they think of next?), there is more to making it look like a random assortment of the twenty-five letters of the alphabet (I never use ‘z’ out of principal, except back there, but that was for explanatory purposes, and except for the word ‘pizzle‘, which simply demands to be used, to the point of becoming hackneyed).

Sometimes the most difficult part of writing is not the words, or word structure, or knowing what to write: it’s flow.

I can spend an eternity writing the opening sentence, deleting it, rewriting it, realising I’m going to hit a dead-end, sit thinking about it with pen in hand, get frustrated, then forget the whole idea and go and get really drunk. This was nearly one of those situations, and only exists because of this rather long aside.

Hobnobbing with the elite

Anyway, the original point of this entry was going to be that last Saturday I met Peppe Eng ( a well-known Swedish sports journalist/commentator who has become even more well-known due to a recent appearence on some celebrity ‘learn different dance styles every week and embarrass yourself on national TV by showing that you dance like a pelican with a stick up its arse’ dance show/competition), and that Inger performed two short dance routines with him; however, in getting this entry together I ended up, after every failed attempt and deletion, going to play my latest PS2 acquisition, a psychedelic Beatmania game, Frequency.

Three or four days of tapping shoulder buttons in progressively anarchic and near impossible combinations has led to me seeing the game when I close my eyelids. A sure sign, then, that this game rocks.

I was particularly chuffed with this purchase because it’s an old game, sought after by the cognoscenti, and I got it brand-spankling new for a tenner at some Toys R Us style shop.

Although ten pounds of good quality LSD would get you extremely fucked for a very long time, this is a good second choice, with the added benefit that your friends get also get arsed for the same money. Like Rez, this game is a work of art.

Oh, did I mention that I met Peppe Eng?

Playing games on mobile phones has never really appealed to me. This lack of interest stems from two major niggles: screen size/resolution, and an uncomfortable control system.

While the latter has yet to be rectified, technology has allowed for impressively clear graphics on Jo’s and my current phone. And so, when Jo recently expressed an interest in downloading a game or two (two being my interpretation), I was only too glad to have a valid reason to challenge my prejudice.

Jo’s phone, the W900i

For Jo I found a conversion of one of the first, and best, puzzlers on the PSP: Lumines

A game reminiscent of Tetris, with loads of other new ideas thrown in, Lumines comes from the man behind the brilliant PS2 release, Rez. With this in mind, I knew it would offer an enjoyable game experience, as long as the conversion was decent.

So far, with the exception of the lack of decent (and interactive) music that the original offers, I’m impressed with the gameplay (though it’s still fiddly) and, in particular, the clarity and sharpness of the graphics. 1-0, then, to Mobile Phones vs Grouchy Jon.

And mine, the W800i

Next, for me, because I knew I’d easily get frustrated with a game that requires microcosmic manual dexterity, I chose Chess Master.

Now, I consider myself to be okay at chess. I have a good opening play, but start to show ineptitude when the game opens up, and then fuffle about thereafter with varying degrees of failiure; however, I’d still rate myself as average (bare this in mind).

To bring myself into the game, I first chose “Monkey” level (pfft!), the easiest, and won convincingly (Who’s your daddy?). Next up, “Child” (snigger), and…I’m being beaten like a schoolboy mischief in the 1920s.

There are eleven difficulty levels to choose from, and I’m being soundly rogered by an opponent that is two levels easier than “Beginner”. This is clearly a case of mistaken identity; I just said I was average, which to me means at least the equivalent of beginner. I am a shadow of the person I thought I was, and the only explanation I can find (ooh, a Carpenters song floats into my head) is that I simply do not have the time and concentration available to beat such a simple opponent.

Actually, that is a fair enough comment. I do rush through my game, because of either family or (currently) football interuptions, so I will give this a thumbs-up, though perhaps chess is not the best game to be testing the capabilities of today’s mobiles.

Footnote: I actually gained a stalemate in a “Child” match last night. And I should have won, had I not stupidly forced a draw.