Thoughts on ‘Control’: What’s Wrong With a Little Destruction?

I dodge out of the way of a hissing rocket-propelled grenade. Just in the nick of time. It detonates on the wall behind me, sending a fountain of rubble crashing into the room. I use telekinesis to grab one of the boulders, and hurl it back from whence it came. It smashes through office desks, sends plastic chairs jigging into the air, before ploughing through the infected sod who tries to introduce explosives to my face. He doesn’t even slow the masonry down; it careers into the panelled walling behind, sending wood splinters blossoming into the room, and sending an idyllic landscape painting tumbling to the floor.

This is Control. It’s just as fun as it sounds.Continue reading “Thoughts on ‘Control’: What’s Wrong With a Little Destruction?”

New Year’s Irresolutions

We shouldn’t need the beginning of a new calendar year as motivation to get our lives in order. It’s not like we only realise that we’ve been neglecting trying new things, ditching that unsatisfying job, or getting in shape, as the minute and hour hands snap to attention on New Year’s Eve. If we’re honest with ourselves, these things occupy our minds all year round.Continue reading “New Year’s Irresolutions”

Smile Like You Mean It

I was concerned that when we had a child I’d become soppy. There was a genuine risk, I thought, that I’d start to view my whole life through this saccharine lens. This fear prompted a host of questions. Would my legendary cynicism take a hit? By some miracle, would I become more humble? What would happen to the street cred I’ve nurtured for years? (Is street cred even a phrase anymore?)Continue reading “Smile Like You Mean It”

Ready Player Two

Three weeks ago, on the morning of the 31st July, my beautiful daughter, Amber, came into the world. I would like to say that I was hit by a wave of gratitude and awe at the sight of her, but in truth I was so zombified after the traumatic, sleepless preceding night, that I struggled to take it in. Everything felt so surreal at her birth; three weeks later, with the little bundle sleeping next to me while I type, the feeling of surrealism remains. It just doesn’t seem feasible that my wife and I made this splayed-out little cutie, and suddenly the complete responsibility for her well-being rests on our shoulders.Continue reading “Ready Player Two”