text:
NeenerNeener.Net
I have no idea what I'm doing.
CoH-CoV
DAoC
EQII
I Can Fill In! Pick Me, Coach! ME!
On 7/28/02 By KwipIn AC1Leave a comment
So I'm talking with one of my IRC mates, Zkdog, and he tells me that in his HUGE monarchy, that's SUPER HELPFUL to n00bs, there's an opening because one of their key members, Hostile, hasn't been playing much anymore. Well well well…far be it from me to let an opportunity like this pass on by!
I grill Zk a bit more, and find out that Hostile is this great, really well-liked guy, whom everybody adores, he's a lot of fun, blah blah blah – you see what I'm getting at, don't you? If Hostile doesn't play that much anymore – well, then, it's obvious I am the perfect person to take his place! Why, "great, really well-liked guy that everybody adores and is a lot of fun" is practically SYNONYMOUS with Kwip!
Death says, "I thought Kwip was synonymous with 'suck'?"
Mac says, "No no no, it's synonymous with 'big pile of poop'!"
Kaigon says, "No, wait, I think you're both wrong – isn't it, 'whooping load of suckdom that will likely get everyone killed and doom an entire server'?"
You say, "QUIET, SLUTS!"
So. It's decided then: I shall prove my worthiness to the entire monarchy of Thase Skotoso! (Yeah, I was kinda puzzled by the name too, but then I found out it's Dutch for "likely to get highly intoxicated and then attempt to powerlevel idiots") .
First thing I had to do was to create a character. I asked Zk what Hostile was (to better ensure my taking his place). Zk told me, but by the time I got to the character creation screen, I had promptly forgotten. Bah. What weapon I use is not important! What's important is that my new allegiance mates feel the love flowing from my soul! For best conduciveness, I chose to use a swordsman. Nothing says love like a long sword! Er…ok, get your minds out of the gutters, you perverts, that's not at all the image I was going for…
So anyway, I have my new character. Now this is a sort of change for me – as some of you know, I pride myself on my archery skill.
Death says, "Skill? Buddy, if it weren't for gravity, you couldn't hit the GROUND!"
Ah-HEM. Now then: I am swordsman! Of course, my l33t skills with the blade wouldn't be enough to win over the hearts of my new family. I'd have to engage in some witty banter, show them that I respect their skills and wish to learn from them! To that end, I met Aiko II and Sholdem at our mansion. Aiko was summoning swarms of butterflies out of mid-air! I'd never seen anything like that! Well, here's a PERFECT opportunity to express some admiration for their skills and get in good with them!
Of course, it would turn out to be a terrible mistake.
Death says, "Hi there! Bet you'll think twice about listening to advice from Sholdem, huh? Looks like the guild wants Hostile back!"
You say, "Gah! Get away from me!"
Okay, this was OBVIOUSLY just a bit of 'new-guy' kidding! Why, they'd warm up to me soon, I just knew it. I figured what they REALLY needed was a chance to see what I'm capable of – to demonstrate my prowess!
Death says, "Do you really think there's ANYONE left that doesn't know how fast you can die?"
No, no, no – not my lifestone prowess! I mean my CRAFTING skills! Let's face it – I'm a mean Tinkerer with items! Why, I bet my skill is almost in the NINETIES! Yes, that's right kids – I've got a skill that is getting near to passing a HUNDRED points! Don't try and keep up!
This turns out to be a wise move: not only is Item Tinkering a needed skill, but it turns out they have need of it RIGHT NOW! The guild has gotten a new flag that they need stamped, and nobody has Item Tinkering!
Nobody, that is – EXCEPT FOR YOURS TRULY! Yeah, that's right – it falls to ME to stamp their brand new fancy flag! Of course, you have to be veeeeeeeeeeery careful with something like this…
Zkdog says, "Dude! WTH? You botched the flag! How is that even possible?!?!"
You say, "Hey man, Sholdem bumped my arm!"
Sholdem says, "I did not! I wasn't anywhere near you! Zk, would you PLEASE get rid of Kwip and get Hostile back?"
Ha – those guys are such kidders! I knew they loved me! This friendly little jiving amongst peers was the SURE sign of their hearts melting for me!
Yeti Child tells you, "If you even come NEAR me, I'm killing you."
Heh. Such kidders!
See, I KNEW they were kidding with me, because seven of them (Zkdog, Dartok, Juvai Shakar, Yeti Child, Aiko II, Sholdem and the Monarch, Thase Skotoso himself!) ALL agreed to take me on a quest for the SoLL! Yup, that's right – Kwip, feckless wonder extraordinaire, was going to be the proud owner of one of the most legendary quest items in the game! Who's not welcomed by his new guild now, goombahs?
Thase Skotoso says, "Ok, remember – place your bets early. Odds still have Kwip dying 12 times before we get to the Hall of Lost Light!"
You say, "What's that you guys are talking about?"
Thase Skotoso says, "Ermm…nothing, Kwip! I was…ermm…making a joke!"
You say, "Oh. I don't get it?"
Thase Skotoso says, "Uh, never mind that, it's time to go!"
And off we went! There I was – in the DIRES! It would've been terrifying, but I had my allegiance mates all around me, ready to leap to my defense! At least, that's what they SAID they were gonna do. Actually, tho, every time a monster got close, they'd all try and leap on it's head. I'm not sure how excactly that helped me, but they insisted that what they were doing was REALLY important… My job, as they told me, was to kill all the monsters. I wasn't sure if I could do this and I told them so, but for some reason this just made them all laugh. They said I'd have NO problem, so long as I put my swing on FULL power.
Death says, "Hi again! Wow, haven't seen you this often since you tried to single-handedly make it through the Nexus!"
Then they suggested I try attacking on low power.
Death says, "Well, fancy meeting you here!"
They they suggested I try medium power.
Death says, "Knock knock."
I was starting to get discouraged. The worst part was that every time I died, I'd lose them, and then I'd have to run all over looking for them again. I tried to ask them for buffs to help me keep up with them, but they said that Hostile used to ask for buffs, and I really needed to find my 'own playstyle' instead of mooching off of his. I'm not really sure what that meant, but apparently it was something like, "NO BUFFS 4 JOO!"
Zkdog came up with the idea of carrying a flag so I could see where he was. I thought this was a pretty good idea, and I tried really hard to keep up with him. Problem was, he kept running through huge groups of Lich Lords, Olthoi, Sclavus, Tuskers – you name it, he charged right through the middle of them.
Death says, "Well, hello again. Sigh. Really, isn't there something more productive you can be doing?"
It was only later that I got close enough to read what the flag had written on it:
"Attention monsters! If you let me pass through your group, I promise to let you have the dipshit that's following me!"
I wasn't sure who it was referring to – there must've been some guy way behind me. Boy, I feel sorry for THAT dumb schmuck getting set up like this!
But finally, we make it to our goal: the Halls of Lost Light! Where I'm going to get my sword! I'm so excited, I can barely stand it! Everyone else helps calm me down by luring monsters up to pound the living crap out of me. At first I thought they were just being mean, but Yeti Child explained to me that this was how Hostile used to calm down and if I expected to fill his shoes – well, I just better start shaping up! I resolved to be more cheerful about my thrashings.
After the group gauged I had calmed down enough (and I think they were getting tired of waiting for me to get back from the lifestone all those times), we FINALLY entered the dungeon! I couldn't tell you how excited I was! Here, accompanied by my new bestest friends, we were going to defeat the keeper of the Sword of Lost Light! I could almost taste victory! I envisioned the whole thing – my friends leading the way, clearing out the dungeon so that I might slay the Guardian of the Lost Light and win his sword as my own!
And then Sholdem took my kill.
It was still pretty exciting, though. Everyone got so worked up that they had to sacrifice Thase:
Zk was muttering some ceremony here. I'm not sure what it was all about, but since he was
wearing the turkey hat, we all had to obey him.
But that was ok. I began crying, and finally everyone got so sick of listening to me bitch, they promised that I could have the Sword if I would leave the allegiance and never come…hey!
You say, "But…guys – I thought you liked me!"
Juvai Shakar says, "Well, no, it wasn't so much that we liked you as we liked making -fun- of you."
You gasp.
Yeti Child says, "Yeah, that's pretty much it, Kwip. But now you're getting boring. We want Hostile back."
You say, "But…but…I can be your new bestest friend! I'll be fun! You'll like me!"
Aiko II says, "Oh, we like you now."
You say, "Really?"
Aiko II says, "Yes. Specifically, we'd like you to GO AWAY."
You say, "Can I have the Sword?"
Dartok says, "Guys, let him have the sword, just get him out of here, PLEASE!"
Yeah, that's right, check out my blade! I was pretty excited about it. I ran around for a bit showing it off to each of them in my glee. Then Thase said he was going to shove it up my nether regions if I didn't leave.
You say, "But don't you guys want to, I dunno, sign it?"
Thase said, "Ok, now I'm going to shove it up there SIDEWAYS if you don't leave."
Hrmph.
Needless to say, I left. I got what I wanted – a cool, cool sword! Let them have their little fun, I don't care! *sniff* I got everything I need! *sniff sniff* I'm gonna go out now and slap some drudges down with this new bad sword, just to put it to good use!
So fine, Hostile – you might have won THIS round! They might like you better, with your fancy pants and ability to go longer than five minutes without visiting the lifestone! But just remember this: who's got the shiny new Sword of Lost Light? Yeah, that's right man – ME. I am l33t! I am da king! I am…
Thase Skotoso tells you, "Oh, Kwip, I forgot – we need that SoLL back."
You tell Thase Skotoso, "What?!?!"
Thase Skotoso tells you, "Yeah, we're gonna give it to Hostile if he comes back. Now hand it over."
My Trip To NJ (oh, and the ACPL I went to on the way…)
On 7/19/02 By KwipIn AC1
Phew. Bet you thought I'd never get this up, huh? Let me start by saying if you want to skip a LOOOOONG and boring story, get to the pics here. Otherwise (you fool!)
Well, sorry, but I had bunches an bunches of stuff to do. Like, call my insurance company. Why? Oh, to get information for the accident. What accident, you ask? Ah, I'm getting ahead of myself here! Lemme start from the beginning:
As a child, I was often told that wearing underwear was a GOOD thing. But I wouldn't listen, you see, because…eh? Oh, FINE. Not that far back, then.
Well, we started out good. All our gear was loaded, we had ample supplies, and life, as they say, was good. We sailed on through Pennsylvania remarkably unticketed, considering my tendency to let the speedometer drift up to around 85mph. Hey, it's not MY fault that Ford Focus is a hawt racer machine!
So things were good. We cruised through to the end of the PA Turnpike, where we only had to pay $23,426 and a kidney. Did I mention tolls are ridiculous nowadays? Anyway, PA is now behind us.
Enter New Jersey.
New Jersey, sometimes referred to as NJ, sometimes called The Garden State and sometimes affectionately referred to as the Ninth Plane of Hell.
Let's make no qualms: I hate New Jersey. Why, you ask? Well, not just because Bats lives there. No, I hate New Jersey for a plethora of reasons, chiefly amongst them is the fact that you can't pump your own gas. Like no one in New Jersey is smart enough to figure out how to work this stunning new technology called a "Gas Pump." They have to select their brightest, most skilled warriors and send them off to a special school to train in the usage of these deadly devices. Because heaven forbid they behave like those heathens in the other states and let people pump their own gas! Gasp! Blasphemy! People would douse each other in gasoline and run RIGHT into a bonfire, I tell you!
So anyway. I hate New Jersey. Which is a pisser, because I travel through it quite often, and I think the words getting out.
We're stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic. A traffic jam. Why, you ask? An accident? A twenty-car pile up? A bridge out? Construction? No, no, no – nothing so enjoyable. We're all backed up in the northbound lanes because there's a truck on fire.
In the southbound lanes.
And GOOD GOD, someone drive by that without slowing down to 5mph so they can get their daily dose of gore? Never! Sigh. And before you people start leaping all over me accusing me of doing the same thing, let me assure you I don't: Kwipettes job when we're driving is to ogle the gore and then describe it to me in graphic detail. Gets me hawt, ya know.
So anyway, there we are, crawling along. Well, some of us were, anyway. Why only some of us? That's simple, bucky! It's only some of us because while myself and everyone in front of me is only doing 5-10mph, the asshole behind me is doing 25mph! And not looking! I know this, because I looked into the rearview mirror in time to see him speeding up on us with his face fully pointing into what looked like the glove compartment. I had a split second to react; twenty things flashed into my mind – warn Kwipette! Brace for impact! Turn the car out of the way! Wet your pants! Scream obscenities!
As it turns out, my lightning-quick reflexes allowed me to do none of these things. Instead, I tighten every muscle in my body in a pretty good impersonation of rigor mortis. This is probably more information than you want (or need) to know, but if there would have been a lump of coal up my ass, I would've had a diamond that would shame the Hope Diamond after that accident. Of course, then I'd have to explain why I had a lump of my coal up my ass, and that would invariably lead to a joke in poor taste about Santa Claus, so let's just skip this chapter, shall we?
Anyway, back to our story. So the person behind me, whom I shall refer to as Asshole, decides he likes my trunk. He likes it so much, in fact, that he's going to attempt to park there. He ass-ends me a pretty good clip, which knocks me into the car in front of me. Which was the worst part of this – I mean, sure, you run into assholes, it happens. But my job in this encounter was supposed to be the Asshole Buffer, and keep other people's contact with said Asshole down to a minimum. Unfortunately, Asshole's personality (and speed) were such that they could not be restrained. So WHAMMO, Kwipette and I get to meet the people in front of us.
From there it was rather uneventful. Everyone pulls over. The nice, attractive young couple in front of us get out of their (expensive) car and Kwipette and I confer with them to ensure no one in either of our vehicles is hurt. Then we turn our attentions to Asshole, who still hasn't pulled over to the side of the road, delaying traffic even more. Finally the logic gets jarred around in his head and he pulls over. He begins to clamber out of his car, and I see he has a (quite) pregnant woman and small child with him. I ask if everyone in his vehicle is ok, and he says yes, and asks if we're all ok. We say yes. He asks if someone's called the police, and I say yes, the young lady from 'up front' has. He says good.
And gets back in his car.
Without apologizing.
Look, I'm all about fucking up. Why, if I haven't accidently knocked someone over and stood on their throat before lunch, it's a miracle. I'm a clumsy, fat, oafish mess that rarely manages to win the battle with gravity and grace when it comes to getting out of my chair. I KNOW about accidents. So if you screw up and bring ME into YOUR accident, I'm not very likely to get too upset.
So long as you apologize.
Apologies are weird things; they don't mean that much until someone totally screws the pooch and then fails to utter any sort of regret about it. And then there's the whole issue of sincerity. But at least make the gesture, man!
Sigh. But it was okay. Because as we sat there, parked along the NJ Turnpike, baking in the sun, hating everything, I saw something that made it all okay – I saw that God was on our side.
Anyway, Asshole got two citations – one for not having a child safety seat, and the other for being stupid in a no-stupid zone. We got back on the highway and beat feet outta that crazy state. I'm still waiting on the accident report. Ten days to process. Hrmph.
So back to the ACPL! Bet you thought I'd forgotten, huh? Well, I DO have one more sidetrack. My dad lives in Lake Webster, Mass. So we stopped there Thursday nite. While there, I remarked with great envy on my father's Xbox. He stated that he does not use it, and that I'm welcome to take it home.
The next morning Kwipette suggested that perhaps we should confirm his sincerity, due to the fact that he and I had been drinking heavily during our conversation. I pointed out to her that if we did that, there was a possibility he could change his mind, and that would result in me NOT having an Xbox. Which is not the goal I was looking for here.
While there, we took my car to a friend of my father's that owns a body shop. He took a look at my car and stated, in the subtle dialect of the New England area, that I was "fucked," as he so-quaintly put it. Sigh. He said ballpark of $7-8,000 worth of damage, and 2-3 weeks worth of work.
I hate New Jersey.
Anyway, he fixed up our car enough so no pieces were falling off and straightened out what he could so that it would be legal to drive it, provided I didn't set fire to any parts of it or run down small children. And off we went!
We got to the hotel around 4pm. Upon entering the lobby, we spotted a group of people sitting around and INSTANTLY assessed they were ACers. The keen edge to their eyes, the twitching of their fingers, the fact that they were discussing their favorite quests…Yup, I'm quick like a whip.
I went to the counter to sign in, and one of the people in the lobby pointed at me. "Kwip? Are you Kwip?"
That's always a weird moment for me. You may not know this, but I STRIVE for love and attention. But when presented with it in public, I get very panicky, because I'm never sure if the person addressing me is going to say something nice or if they're going to punch me in the throat, take my lunch money, and tell me my stories are dumb.
But this turned out to be the former. "I love your stories!" And the rest of the people in the lobby chimed in with their agreement. My head swelled up so that they needed to call a bellboy to hammer it through the doors.
Enough ego-stroking (well, not really, but I'll talk more about that later)! We went up to our room, which we had arranged to adjoin Quixotics. I pounded on the door between our rooms, basically waking him up and scaring the hell outta him, because he had been up since 4 am and had just arrived and laid down to have nap. I was having none of that courtesy crap, and insisted he get up and accompany us to get something to eat. He whined a bit about it, but then I mentioned the possibility of beer, and he acquiesced in a hurry. Off we went to get something to eat. Another pass through the lobby, more love, more swollen ego, more bellboy pounding head through door.
We hit a restaurant next door where Kwipette and I partook of some fresh seafood goodness that marks the area and we all began drinking. The rest of the night passed in a blur.
The next morning…no, I'm kidding. Ha! After dinner we waddled back to the hotel to rest up a bit before that night's activities. I knew the WCoD folks were up to no good someplace, but I couldn't find them. I even resorted to setting an open beer outside my door. But they were too clever for my trap! After patrolling the grounds for them, I gave up and sat in my room, sulking.
However, Quix being the boy genius that he r, pulled out the contacts. He put a call into Yuan, and Yuan came in his Yuan mobile! But he did not come alone – oh no! He brought with him his beautiful, incredibly sexy sidekick, beer! Oh, and Ninjamouse (uh, the joke there for the slower people, especially Bats, is that Ninjamouse was the beautiful sidekick – get it?).
Anyway, they not only brought beer, but they brought Dance Dance Revolution. Yes. This was my first true introduction to the world of DDR. Shortly after they showed up, Devilmouse and K80 arrived too, and it was officially a party. Well, except that Devilmouse had to run back out to get food – which turned out for the better, because the food wound up being a source of endless amusement, so all was good. And then more people showed up, and someone got some more beer, so all was even better.
So now I got to meet this DDR that I had heard so much about. Not only meet it, but make fun of all the people that turned up later to try it out. It became quite an obsession. Our adjoining rooms became the center of a whole new type of revolution: a Dance Dance Revolution. As with all Revolutions, however, it had to end. Yes, the VCR was rudely disconnected from that girly game to make way for the true purpose of our gathering: Death Tank.
The problem is, that after having watched the game being played last year, I felt rather confident that I could make a good showing this year. Well, no, I lie. The problem is that I SUCK.
I got firsties on Death Tank. Death Tank commences. I get my ass roxored. Badly.
In fact, I finish the game up with a total score of 0. Yes, ZERO. I effectively did nothing the entire game except to serve as the catcher for everyone else's nukes, corbite, Deathheads, rolling mines – you name it, if it was coming towards me, I leapt up and shoved my face right into it. Well, at least I'm consistent in my suckitude.
The Death Tank party continued on into the wee hours, bringing some old friends from last ACPL back, as well as introducing me to some new friends. Eldreth is a quiet, quiet man. But if you think that means he won't fire a nuke into your back when you're not looking, you're sadly, sadly mistaken. The best part of the evening was the Death Tank round that found Maggie and Kwipette as the sole survivors, battling it out. I tried to convince them that there was an easier way – ie, getting in their bathing suits and settling the matter in the mud pit – but they merely responded with slaps to my face and kicks to my sensitive bits. See what I get for trying to help?
The next morning came WAY too early, as these things often do. I'm putting in a motion for next years ACPL to begin at like noon or something. This 9am crap's for the birds. But we struggle blearily downstairs, starved outta my mind. It's been like 3 hours or something since I last ate, so I'm ravenous.
We make it to the cafe in the hotel, and there chance upon the WCoD'ers. They catch me with a plate piled to the ceiling with bacon. And one slice of waffle, I think. Anyway, my arteries are hardening just looking at it, and I've begun to drool rather heavily. But I'm whisked away from that fatty goodness to greet the WCoD'ers. Which is all good, because that gives me an opportunity to try and convince Ibn Schachabo that I'm Jason Booth. He falls for it (thanks to a craftily stolen Turbine nametag from last year), but before I can convince him to give me his wallet, everyone else lets him in on the hoax. Hrmph. See if I give THEM a cut of my goodies! I got to meet Sue Anne (sp?) there, too. And I must say, she is painfully hawt. For those of you who had missed out on the pics of her all over the place, well, now you know. That is, after all, what I'm here to do – help you guys know who the hawties are. Shall we continue?
Right. They let me get back to my bucket of lard for breakfast, and I dig my way through. After that, Kwipette and I make our way to the line for the ACPL sign-in, which is like 20 miles long. Luckily for us, it was a lovely morning (if you're not hungover and fearful of the sun god). And Yuan and Ninjamouse arrive in line right behind us, so we have someones to cause mischief with. And mischief we cause, as we try to entice the entire line into a rousing chorus of Koom-bah-yah (does anyone even know how that's spelt? Not that I care, just curious). Security shows up and tells us that if we don't keep it down, they shall be forced to mace us and stomp on our throats, which they demonstrate on me. Everyone else gets the message, and seems delighted at my discomfort. Hrmph. Bastiches.
The sign up proceeds smoothly – I was impressed with the efficiency. You could tell this wasn't an MS operation. (Woah! That's a diss!). We get our goodie bags – and let me just tell you, they KICKED ASS. My little olthoi-clad monkey is sitting on my monitor, watching me type this instead of working. The artwork was fantastic, and the other little knick-knacks most beuno. I do have to give one criticism, tho – Um, guys? Let's look a bit at the target audience here. I realize that among there are some pretty svelt people that play this game. However, there are a number of us – a large number, much pun intended – that couldn't fit into an XL with a crowbar and a bottle of KY. Next year, could we see some love to our fat asses? Thank you!
We proceed into the chambers, meeting and greeting as we go – Allen cut his hair! He looks like a grown up! – and find that Quix has saved us seats. Because I'm a miserable bastard, I take the time to complain that the seats are on the entire opposite side of the room from the Devs, where my ass-kissing will be very difficult to perceive. Quix responds with something along the lines of "Quiet or I'll sqoosh your head." Not being sure what a 'sqoosh'-ing consists of, but relatively sure I don't wish to endure it, I acquiese and sit quietly.
You can read (and hear) about the stuff on other sites; Warcry has a good write-up, and Maggie's got some great photos. I'm not so concerned with that as I am with the mirth and merriment that went on. And the babes, of course. I wouldn't let you guys down on that.
During the breaks, a number of people come up to us and tell us how much they enjoy the site. I hate that. Like, I hate that the same way I'd hate it if a truck of Ben & Jerry's crashed in front of my house and I had to find a home for all those orphaned pints, ya know what I mean? There are so many cool people there, it's really cool to meet them all. Some of the ones that really stand out in my mind (of course I took no pictures because I'm an idiot and I'm equally bad with names, duh) were a woman that traps lobsters (what she does with them after she traps them, I'm not so sure, but thank God she's out there protecting the sea lanes, that's all I know); a german physicist (what's it like to understand another language so well you actually get the jokes, as bad as they are); a couple of current and ex-military types; oh! and this super hawt little chick that plays on DT (I wish I would've taken a pic so you guys would believe me)! Can you believe that? Weird.
Anyway, then we broke for lunch. Lunch was so-so (they tried to feed me vegetables. VEGETABLES! You know what those things do to you?), but we had fun singing Happy Birthday to Ravlen. It was a bit crowded in the chow hall, too. I was gonna sit with Ophelea, but she said I had to go find a left-handed fork. By the time I found one, her table was all filled up (don't tell anyone, but I secretly suspect she tricked me!) but luckily Soulitaire didn't mind if I sat with him. In fact, he even groped my knee, and I didn't have to give him money! I think Kwipette was pretty jealous, but she managed to restrain herself. I mean, let's face it: I am a sex symbol. Sigh, okay, maybe not, but a guy can dream, can't he? I kept waiting for someone to ask me to autograph their breasts. The closest I got was stabbing myself in the boob with my name tag. Not too hawt, that.
We finish up lunch, meet some more folks, and then we're back outside to goof off some more. More of the devs came out now, and it was cool to see the ones we'd met from last year. They're a pretty wacky lot, and tolerate me pretty well. Kwipette didn't have to give me the "you're making an ass out of yourself" signal (some people call this a throat punch, but we like our little pet names) during our visits with them, so I consider that a success. I really like talking to them; besides just being a cool group of people, it's interesting to hear what it's like inside Turbine. It may seem like fun and games to us outsiders, but apparently they've been having a rash of problems with assassins lately.
We went back in for another Q&A session, this time with the AC2 team. Again, I have no idea what was said, because I was still stuck on the distraction of Kwipette and Maggie settling their Death Tank round. Well, okay, I did pay attention, because the game is gorgeous. It's just unbelievably cool. They showed us a preview (again, other sites can give you info better than me) that was really interesting (a bit buggy, but they got it straightened out). The music aspect of AC2 really intrigues me. A lot of hard-core gamers are dismissing it out of hand, but I think that it's really going to be a pretty interesting little tidbit for casual gamers – an entire new social world that's going to open up whole new fields in the MOG arena. But let's get back to talking about zanniness…
We got another break b/t the AC2 segment and the Whose Drudge part. During this break, Tim approached me and begged to be on the site. Tim was the first person to ask for my autograph. After this gets out, he'll probably be the last. Yes, I mock, but I do so in a loving way, I assure you – he's one hell of a nice guy, and I'll defend his right to wear towel pants with my dying breath…
Back inside for Whose Drudge. As was their duty, the performers gave their best, and as was our duty, we mocked, laughed, and shoved cameras in each others' faces. It was much better this year, though, because I did not get signed up by someone else, like I did last year. *Shoots dirty look at Tim* And this year featured a performance by someone with church bells for balls – the guy got up there and viciously mocked Ken Karl. Hey, I can't speak for Ken's sense of humor, but it sure stunned me! Of course, afterwards I found out that the winning prize was video cards. Suddenly I was pissed no one had signed me up on their team – especially the winning team!
The ACPL ended with a pretty big bang – the betas brought the house down. I have to say, tho, that Quix and Merry both guessed that one. Each of them clued into that earlier in the day. Myself, I was about as oblivious as they come – they coulda been leading me to the slaughterhouse for all my keen powers of observation.
Kwipette and I retreated to the room for some much-needed nappage (uh, the sleeping kind, you perverts). It had been a long day, and we knew it would stretch on. A couple of hours later, Kwipette was still feeling wiped, so she sent me on ahead without her. How she could POSSIBLY let me out of her sight, wearing my favorite Haiwaiin shirt, was beyond me. The faith that woman has in me is inspiring. I mean, I pondered whether to call for security to escort me through the throngs of women I knew were downstairs waiting to tear this shirt of my back…they must've been waiting by the wrong entrance, though, because when I came down, they weren't in site. Hrmph.
I spent some time searching for Sneezy and the other Warcry folks. I told Sneezy at least I'd meet up with her later, and I wanted to get in with the big kids from Warcry so I could sit at their table next time. But both the bars I came into were empty. There were some ACers there, definately, but I'm not quite so arrogant yet to assume that I can barge into the middle of any AC group and instantly be welcome. My luck, it'd be a group of Bloods sitting around talking about how they haven't kicked anyone's ass in forever, and I'd end up with my shirt torn off my back alright…then stuffed in one orifice or another…
So after this broken quest, I gave up and figured I'd just head to the Blue Bordello (I was told that's its new name). Anyone guess who came up with that name?
I arrived there and found Quix and Ninjamouse already there. I did my par-tay thing, mixed a few drinkie-poos, and then heard the mumbled air of disbelief arise from those inside: Ninjamouse had brought with her not ONE, but TWO DDR pads.
The Revolution-ing that would go on tonite would go down in history.
There has been much talk about the car-bombing, so I won't cover it here: sufficeth to say that it was more fun to watch than to get hit with one. I hung out in the back in my uber two-seater fold up chair, and visited with lots of cool people. As the evening wore on, even MORE cool people showed up, and the mirth and merriment increased exponentially. I stole Michelle away from Chris to go for an ice run (I can't BELIEVE he just let her go with me! Me! The AC Hawt Guy!), and got the opportunity to learn that I had NO idea where the hell I was. In fact, if we had passed a sign that said, "Welcome to Canada, eh" I wouldn't have been surprised. Scared as hell, mind you, but not surprised. But our run was successful – even though THE MAN tried to stop us! But no way! We were going for it! (A police car was in our way in the parking lot. We had to wait for him to move. Good thing he didn't follow us back, that's all I can say)
Returning to the party found many people now the victims of car bombs, and much laughter and unconsciousness were beginning to show up. Finally, sadly, all good things must end. It was late, I was tired, and Quix was gonna puke. It had been TEN YEARS since he was this drunk, after all. And it will probably be another TEN YEARS before I let him live this down. Heh.
This was another fantastic gathering. Seeing the old friends, making new ones, getting my ego stroked and having my ass soundly thrashed at Death Tank are why I keep coming back. If you made it, I hope you had as good a time as I; if not, I hope you're not whining about not getting a Beta like those sniveling bitches on the boards. Whine about not getting to meet the hawtness that is K80, Sue Anne, Michelle, Kim, Maggie, and several others that I've forgotten; whine about not getting to see Allan doing Chris Farley; or whine about not getting to have your ass spanked in Death Tank – those are worthy whines!
So, thanks for reading through this TOME of an entry. Sheesh. For as long as it is, you'd think that I could've at least made it funny.
No, I still don't have the ACPL pics back
I was GOING to play on Frostfell.
At the last minute, a sudden spasm overtook my finger, and I clicked "Darktide" instead.
I couldn't help it. Honest. See, I really, really, REALLY love Darktide. Oh, don't get me wrong; I like Frostfell; I like my allegiance there; I like doing quests.
But I love Darktide. I enjoy the hell out of playing there, I love fighting other players, I love a lot of the people there and I swear that this recent return has nothing to do with the incredibly cute young DT'er I met at the ACPL. Please put down the steak knife, Kwipette!
So I log in. I figure I'll just wander around for a bit, see what shakes loose, get killed a couple of times, nothing too big. But I'm not on there for five minutes when I get a tell from Delinquent', who was someone I'd regularly harass in his previous incarnation. Now he's some big whopping level, and he offers to take me around and show me some sights!
Death says, "Like the Lifestones?"
You say, "Quiet, slut!"
So I'm all sorts of excited. This sounds like a fun time! First things first, of course. I had to run across the dires to find a portal spot. Hey, that's a big-ass golem. When did they start showing up? Sheesh!
Death says, "Hi there!"
Sigh. Well, I can figure my way out from town. Sure enough, Delinquent' says he can make his way out to Heartland in no time, so we agree to meet there. Five seconds later, he's there, and we greet each other and spend some time making fun of each other's armor:
That thing does look like a goose. He insists it's a turkey, but I think it's a goose.
Anyway, we stand around making fun of each other's outfits for a minute in the true bitchy fashion, and then someone portals in. I tend not to pay much attention to these things, because either they attack me and I'm dead before I know it, or they say 'hi'. Either way, it's always something interesting. I take a gander, and see that our new arrival is Bow-Runner. But before this person has a chance to kill me (or say hi), Delinquent' is over there, swinging away at them. Well, he knows best, I suppose. I watch as Bow-Runner portals on outta there, thinking nothing of it. A few moments later, as Del and I stand around waiting on Gendo (a vassal of Dels, joining up with us), I get this tell:
Me? KOS? Well, I mean, yeah, I usually am to everyone else, I don't know why SH would discriminate against me. For that matter, I have no idea who or what SH is. But usually when people tell me this stuff, there's some reason or another. What I couldn't quite figure out was why he was telling me this, and not Del. I mean, after all, Del tried to kill him. I only stood idly by and tried to wish him happy thoughts.
*Gasp*! Del? A PK? But after questioning Del, it became obvious that Bow had it all wrong. Del wasn't a PK! This was just one of those misunderstandings. Like that time I was bird-watching outside of Gillian's house with my high-powered binoculars. Wearing a black suit.
I tried to explain the whole thing to Bow:
But he wouldn't believe me! Can you believe that? Sheesh. Some people's kids. Then he just refused to play anymore! Really.
So then we ran merrily along. Del had something to do that required him to be afk for like five minutes, so Gendo and I played tag and took turns jumping on Del's head. Hey, we were REALLY bored. But as he was chasing me with War spells, I came across this fort out in the boonies. It used to be just a hunting grounds, but now it was part of some quest. I didn't realize that at first, of course. No, first thing I though it was just someplace we could goof off in while we waited for Del to stop talking to the 1-900 number he was calling. So we decide to jump in; of course, it's not as simple as it sounds. It takes all sorts of fancy-shmancy maneuvering, even with jump buffed. Which means that Gendo is the first in. Which also means he gets to be the first to find the Hollow Minions sitting in there.
Death says, "Gendo! Pal! Buddy! Any friend of Kwips…"
Well, Gendo cleared them out (FINALLY) and got me over the wall using a bush, some boxes, and a strategically placed 'motivational fireball'. That place was crazy. There was all sorts of mischief to get into, which we promptly did. Then Del got off the pr0n line, and came to join us. While he worked on getting over the walls, I got out my bow and brought everything within radar over to say hi to him. Just for a little, ya know, MOTIVATION.
Unfortunately, being the uber mage he is, he survived all my little friends. Now we decided we wanted to see what was in the cabin. Gendo was quickly dispatched back to town to pick up some lockpicks.
Death says, "Here, lemme give you a ride"
Gendo says, "You bastards!"
But he's a nimble little mynx, and before you could say, "Kwip's got more vitae," he was back with his load. However, we failed to take into account the fact that Del's lockpick skill SUCKED. 300 my tush.
That and the fact the door was unpickable, of course.
Around this time, Gendo found something better to do.
Gendo says, "Uh, I gotta go wash my shield."
Death says, "Wait, wait – lemme show you my rock collection!"
Now it was just Del and I left to figure out how the heck that chair was floating outside the house. We tried jumping up and down on it, but it just wouldn't budge. That meant the only thing left to do was to get up on the towers and start hurling insults at the local wildlife. Fortunately, Koff showed up and spared us that embarresment by killing me.
Not right away, mind you. First he had to get over the walls – which he did in like two leaps. Hrmph. Then he and Del ran around the courtyard playing tag. I tried to get in the game, but Koff gave me a Greater Frost Arrow to take back to the lifestone, which I did.
Death says, "Nice arrow."
So I hustle on back, only to receive a message from Del that he "Got 'em". Foolish me, I thought this meant that Del killed Koff. But actually, I came to learn, this merely meant that Del got Koff to run off where he could circle around and try and kill us again.
I learned my lesson, this time, though. I just followed those two around and picked up the fallen arrows – with my HANDS, thank you very much – and tried to stay out of the way. It was a pretty interesting fight to watch. They were both very good, but Del finally slipped up and tried to close and melee Koff. Then he got stuck against a bush, and Koff played the old "Hey, look into this wand and I'll show you a surprise" trick. Del fell for it, alright, and I took that as my cue to make like a tree and get the flock outta there.
Death says, "It's 'leave', retard – make like a tree and leave!"
You say, "SHUT UP!"
I made it out of there without much trouble – Koff was busy looting Del, after all, and I didn't have much to offer. But Del was all sorts of certain he could take Koff in a 'fair one,' so they arranged to meet back at Heartland and have a little tet-a-tet.
They did. Del lost.
It wasn't a bad fight – Del is good. But Koff was better, and as these things go, skill won out this time. The highlight for me was that a Blood, Quadra Slice, showed up right before it started. He ran off, but he sent me a tell and it turned out to be an old friend (whose previous incarnation shall remain nameless, 'cause I don't wanna get him in trouble!). While I watched the fight, I chatted with Slice and caught up on old times.
So now Del's coming back. For another duel. Ya gotta admire that sort of tenacity. Personally, I run screaming after a fight.
Death says, "You mean, BEFORE and DURING a fight. After the fight, you sit at the Lifestone."
You say, "YOU SHUT YER STINKING TRAP, YOU!"
But they were up for another duel, and it was neat to watch such a thing, so who am I to turn down free entertainment?
So they're back and set up again. They chat and decide to let me help:
Yeah. I kinda screwed up that whole 'go' thingie. Whoops. Well, a little confusion here, a little chaos there, my work is done. I'm watching another very good fight, and then Slice comes wandering back. Koff and Del immediately stop fighting and go after him, and he responds quite gleefully. I tell them to stop, he just wants to watch, and they relent.
And then Slice attacks them. Sigh.
But finally we get everyone calmed down. They're ready to go again.
Well, they tricked us, those clever goombahs. As soon as they said go, they started after Slice. I was worried…but then he kept stopping his running and dancing at them. Not just any dancing, either. CRAZY dancing. Like, when we get older, we're going to tell our kids how we settled our differences with the DANCE sort of crazy dancing! Unfortunately, neither Koff nor Del were swayed enough by his passion to stop attacking him.
How did the mighty conflict end? Well, they kinda got tired of chasing him. So Del and Slice agreed to duel. Which of course put me on the spot, because I didn't know who to root for. I said that the winner would be my new bestest friend, but that only made both of them try to suicide.
So Koff and I stood on the sidelines and chatted. He knows some of the old, old, OLD heads that were around back in the day, so we talked about those guys for a bit. Then he had to go, so he promised to PK me some other time and portaled on outta there.
Del and Slice continued playing slap happy for a very long time. But then – and I'm kinda embarrassed to mention this – Del ran outta mana. And he yelled, "Wait! Stop! No mana!"
*blush* Yeah, he really said that.
So Slice stabbed him in the face.
I mean, I'm no man's warrior, but if I pick a fight, I don't really expect any quarter. I watched enough Conan movies, I know how it works out. Del's a good guy, but that was pretty funny. Sorry Del! Please to be not punching me in da troat!
But Slice was a good sport. He gave me the lewt from Del before running off to cause more mischief. And Del was too embarrassed to come back, so I got to keep the lewt! =P Well, ok, Del gave it to me because I'm poor and he felt sorry for me, but close enough.
So now do you see why I have a hard time leaving DT? Can you imagine this sort of fun on another server? Of course not! Other server fun consists merely of quests, running around, talking, being nice to each other and having to depend on monsters to kill me. MONSTERS!
Honestly. A boy's got to have his standards!
I will say this, tho: hanging out at that fort piqued my interest in that quest. The write-up on it piqued it even more. But I'll scamper back to FF for that. =P
Mosswart Inbreeding
On 7/3/02 By KwipIn AC1Leave a comment
So here we go. Thanks to the mucho love of Kaigon, I've got a level 19 Kwip on Frostfell. I'm having a hell of a lot of fun playing him, too. I haven't done anything yet besides the starter quest (and can I just take another opportunity here to state again for the record that the starter quest kicks more ass than Jackie Chan trying to fight his way out of a box of ass). However, I've gotten to the point now where I can actually sustain myself and hunt alone. Well, I mean, I still need to hit Burstun and beg my new family for some greater fire arrows, but that's all in a day's work, as far as I'm concerned.
Yes, I can get stocked and portal myself right into my new favorite hunting grounds – A Mosswart Hideout. That place is like the Ben & Jerry's of hunting grounds for me. I can actually tank most of the Mossies that spawn here, and with the proper buffs, it's not a bad place for me. Mostly because I think there's a serious Radon leak somewhere in the dungeon, resulting in extreme brain damage for the Mossies. I mean, there's 8 billion of them there. They can all cast spells and almost every single one of them carries a flaming weapon or a pointy stick. But what do they debuff you with?
Lightning Vuln.
Now that's my sort of strategy. I can't really say I blame them – after all, I'm the same guy that cast Bludgeon Vuln on myself as I lept into the subway. But they keep on doing it! I mean, why doesn't one of them stop and think about this?
I can understand Zealots screwing up. I mean, they're all into their religion and stuff. They're too busy envoking the name of the Pillsbury Dough Boy-looking Idols to take the time to actually think about what they're doing. But the Soul Trappers – I mean, come on guys, you're supposed to be the geniuses out of your gang. How can you pause and think:
"Okay, Bob's got a flaming sword. Joe's got a flaming spear. I've got a flaming yaoji, which I'm not really sure what it is, but it looks an awful lot like a sword, so let's just call it a flaming sword. Right. Okay, there's an ugly Isparian in our home. What should I do? Well, Bob's not doing much damage to the guy. Neither's Joe. Hrmm…Wait! I know! I'll fix this guy!"
Mosswart Soul Trapper casts Lightning Vulnerability III on you.
So anyway, since I'm the mental equivalent of a 400lb sumo wrestler to their Richard Simmons when it comes to strategy, I like hunting here. But it's a pretty easy place to hunt. You perch, wait for the spawn and shoot them in the head (there's another brilliant strategy they have – "Hey! That guys standing on a pillar! Let's all gather around the bottom and hug the pillar! Woah there, Joe – no wearing a helmet! That's cheating!").
But that doesn't always provide the recommended daily allowance of fun and excitement I need. Sometimes – often, actually – I like to run down the halls and make fun of the Pillsburys I find down there. There's some really big rooms below, too. If you're really adventurous, you can run into one of them, start running in circles, and see how many Mossies you can get to follow you. My record is 14 right now. After that, they tend to get a little confused and begin just chasing each other, running into the walls, wandering aimlessly and eating paint chips off the floor.
These poor little guys must get terribly bored. You think your day sucks? Try standing in a hallway for hours at a time waiting for some goombah adventurer to run up and shove a flaming arrow in your face. I try and make it easy on them – sometimes I don't always wear my armor. But they're ALL carrying flaming swords and I swear it's like watching the three stooges – they'll come running into the room, the guy in the lead will trip on his flaming sword and impale himself on it, the second mossie will try and block my arrow with his face, and the third guy just explodes.
I tried giving classes to them. I showed them the difference between LIGHTNING weapons and FIRE weapons, but they didn't want to pay attention and instead spent all of class time either trying to brutalize me with their spears or else wandering in circles looking for more paint chips to eat. And when I tried to teach them Fire Vulnerability, they cast it on each other, drew their flaming swords, and immediately burst into flames. Honestly. If there's a Wi flag amongst us players, then there's a Mossie flag somewhere in the Mosswarts. Probably in their frontal lobes.
Of course, I feel bad for them. But I'm certainly not gonna stop butchering the idiots. Darwin would be SO proud.
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Now that the Oculus Rift kits are getting in game developers'...and let's face it...gamers' hands, there is a serious concern to be aware of. With a stereoscopic 3D display like a TV or monitor, it's very easy to see the left and right perspective at the same time and quickly make adjustments so your S-3D gaming experience is a comfortable one. Unfortunately, we don't yet have the ability to do the same thing with a Head Mounted Display like the Oculus Rift. We can see some interactions that are cloned on our computer display, but it doesn't really tell us anything useful.
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These techniques only apply to drivers that use true left and right camera stereoscopic 3D rendering (e.g. The Vereio Perception drivers). 2D+Depth or 3D rendering based on a single camera view isn't the same type of 3D, and we don't know if these recommendations will be applicable.


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With the Chinese New Year holiday coming soon, we would like to inform our dearest customer that during the holiday period, we will not be providing customer service and shipping process (but still accept placing online orders).
All order placed during 2016/2/5 ~ 2016/2/14 will be shipped after 2016/2/15!
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text:
#273 1976 British Grand Prix
Domenica 18 Luglio 1976 si corre in Inghilterra il Gran Premio di Gran Bretagna, nona prova del campionato mondiale di Formula 1. La classifica presen
On Sunday July 18 1976 in England the Grand Prix of Great Britain is run, ninth test of the world championship of Formula 1. The classification still presents Niki Lauda at the top. On the eve of the Swedish Grand Prix Ferrari was still undefeated, but aware of the difficulties due to the characteristics of the Anderstorp circuit, a particular track with continuous radius curves all at ninety or even one hundred and eighty degrees, and only one very long straight. The defeat arrived more than honorable at the hands of the six wheel Tyrrell, but it did not give excessive worries because it is probably impossible to always win.
The troubles arrived in France on the very fast circuit of Le Castellet, a very modern plant structured in such a way as to bring to the exasperation engines and also mechanical parts. For the first time, the perfect twelve-cylinder Ferrari engines broke down, first the one driven by Lauda, then the one driven by Regazzoni, leaving the way clear for James Hunt and the McLaren, once again protagonists after the contested Spanish performance, in which the irregularity of the car cost the driver disqualification.
Hunt's elimination from the ranking of the Madrid race was examined shortly afterwards by the international commission. For everyone the disqualification was definitive and the appeal based on no new considerations. But on July 5, 1976, the day after the French Grand Prix, the FIA Appeals Tribunal decided to readmit James Hunt to the Spanish Grand Prix standings, converting the disqualification into a fine of $3.000. The same decision is also taken for Jacques Laffite. This is because the violations found on their single-seaters are considered minimal, compared to the regulations. Ferrari was irritated by the unfair decision, and worried about the technical failure. In the workshop, the disassembled engines would have denounced the breakage of the shaft probably due to a fusion defect, and if there are no different reasons kept hidden, the diagnosis should reassure enough.
At this point, however, it is clear that not being able to count on a review of the decision regarding the Spanish Grand Prix in appeal, and having lost a lot of the advantage gained, Ferrari's tactics must change. It is necessary to attack again in search of victories without the frenzy of success, because it is good to remember that, in spite of this last unlucky period, Ferrari is still the best car of the year and Lauda the strongest driver. Of course, as soon as the headwind blows, there are those who begin to shoot at zero, who raise the ball of the divorce between driver and brand, until the next denial. Perhaps to win serves more in order to crush these critics that in order to win a championship already very near.
In the meantime, on July 4, 1976, the day after the French Grand Prix, Bernie Ecclestone distanced himself from the contract drawn up on June 23, 1976 with Alfa Romeo, and asked Chiti and Autodelta for five more engines, to be added to the twelve agreed upon. For Autodelta it is obviously impossible to respond positively to the request of the British manager, given the social situation in Italy and the continuous strikes that are affecting the work. Two days later, on July 6, 1976 Bernie Ecclestone sends a letter to the Formula 1 team principals, inviting them to consider the possibility of taking an active role not only in the programming of the championship, but also in the journalistic aspect.
"I hope that in the last three years, and especially last year, you have been able to realize the changes that have taken place in Formula 1, and that they have been beneficial to everyone involved in Formula 1. However, I believe that there is a lack of pre-race advertising, and I am sure that this is due to the fact that your local or national newspapers are not oriented assiduously towards motorsport. Having to convert it a week before the race in an effort to drum up enthusiasm is not only difficult, but often unsatisfactory, because the journalists have no racing experience. I think the best thing is for the F.1.C.A. to establish its own press publicity department which, immediately after each race, can provide you with a report on the race, the lap counters and all news of human interest. However, every country that has a team or drivers racing, we can provide an additional report on what they did during practice and the race. If you make sure that local and national newspapers can have it, at least some of them may be interested in it, and maybe start a regular column that will obviously benefit your race. In due time, before your race, we will send you up-to-date photographs of the drivers, cars and profiles of each team, written by professionals, which can be condensed at your request, and also all the material you will require for your program. I also think it would be a good idea to provide you with six magnetic tapes containing interviews with drivers, team leaders and wives, with human interest topics that you could broadcast to local radio stations. We will make sure that drivers from your country are interviewed in their own language. On the circuit we can, if you want, provide you with an English-speaking speaker, who is at all the races and who can interview the drivers, and explain to the people what happens in the final stages of practice. He would, of course, liaise with your speaker and help him when needed. I'm sure if you give an agreement in principle, there will be many other things that we can do to help you. As you will imagine the putting this together would be quite expensive, and I feel that if you are prepared to pay $1.500 for years not only will this give you a considerable package of useful things, but it will cost less than you will have to spend on the spot. Since I need to have the answer from each Organizer very soon, and since I need to have 100% memberships before we embark on this adventure, I will be grateful if you would let me know if you are interested. I want to assure you that this is nothing more than a service in an effort to help you and indirectly to help ourselves. The annual fee I propose is only a partial contribution towards the costs. Personal regards, signed Bernie Ecclestone".
A curious proposal, to which however the British manager will not get any follow-up. Ten days later the first tests for the British Grand Prix take place, on the improved Brands Hatch circuit, confirming the trends already noted in Sweden: an exceptional competitiveness of Hunt with the McLaren and a gradual return of various teams to a good level of performance. Ferrari of course is competitive, and Lauda doesn't struggle much to get the second best time, despite needing further tuning.
"The car is fine, but we need to make small tweaks to the suspension to experiment with different driving conditions. We can vary the effect of the stabilizer bars and we have three different types of tires to try at the front and two at the rear. The difference is in the carcass structure but not in the tread compounds; as for the engines, we believe that the Castellet's trouble will not be repeated".
Declares engineer Forghieri. The March drivers are very fast, Peterson and Merzario, while the six wheels Tyrrell don't show a great competitiveness, as instead it was legitimate to think: Scheckter even tries the old normal four wheels car, after having gone out of the road with the new one. The Brabhams improve the performances thanks to the excellent performance of the Alfa Romeo engines and to the fact that Autodelta has realized for them the six gears. Engineer Chiti says that Pace has an engine with 480 horsepower and an excellent torque at intermediate regimes, while on Reutemann's car an engine with 500 horsepower has been mounted and there is an even more powerful one. But Brabham was born heavy, and it has kept a traditional disposition of the masses with the water radiators in front and the oil radiators behind, so it is probably less agile on mixed circuits like this one, compared to Ferrari and other more modern English cars. A totally new chassis should cure these ills, and give Alfa and sponsor Martini the desired satisfaction.
As a curious fact it can be noted that two women try to qualify for the Grand Prix: Lella Lombardi, who returned to Formula 1 at the wheel of a Brabham BT 44 of the RAM team, after the hypothesis of a move to Ensign had been aired, where Chris Amon returned, having recovered from the Anderstorp accident (Bob Evans was hired to team up with her), who had been missing since the Grand Prix at Long Beach, where he had not qualified at the wheel of the Lotus), and the English Divina Galica, former Olympic skier, 29 years old with experience in touring cars and formula 5000, at the wheel of a Surtees TS 16 of the Shellsport team. Lella Lombardi does a little better with 1'27"25, while Divina Galica runs in 1'28"25 and it is likely that with this time she will not be able to classify herself.
However, there are still Saturday's tests that will be much more indicative for everyone. Wolf-Williams and Copersucar present only one car, the first for Jacky Ickx, the second for Emerson Fittipaldi. Mike Wilds completes the picture with a Shadow of the P.R. Reilly Team, replacing the Copersucar's Ingo Hoffman. The Briton makes his return to the Formula 1 world championship since the 1975 Brazilian Grand Prix, raced with the B.R.M. The other reserve is Australian Brian McGuire, entered in a Williams.
The track has been modified and slightly shortened to make room for the new pits and it also has a new road surface in various points; these changes naturally create some difficulties, especially because the settling road surface changes its characteristics from hour to hour. In addition, there is the unknown of the weather which, as is well known, has been on the clear and warm side for two months but threatens to change in the next few hours, which would be good for the parched English countryside but would increase the problems for the drivers. After a meeting between manufacturers and managers it is decided that in case of rain during the race it would be up to the race director to decide the neutralization for the time necessary to change the tires.
Sunday's race is very interesting, perhaps the most interesting since the beginning of the championship: of course we expect the confirmation of Ferrari's superiority, but also an extremely hard-fought race. In fact, ten drivers, with Lauda in the lead and Regazzoni very close, run with times that differ from each other by no more than a second. They all improve their times as they manage to fine-tune the suspension of their cars: this is because Brands Hatch is a circuit typically suited to highlight the positive characteristics of the chassis and the skills of the driver. Ferrari has the satisfaction of finding again the pole position, that is the best time in practice, which Lauda had been accustomed to in the past, and which had been missing for two races. The satisfaction of engineer Forghieri is evident, who declares:
"We had two days of trouble-free testing, and we proved to be competitive. We are not immune from failures, but we will do our best putting new engines and gearboxes for tomorrow's race".
Regazzoni is also happy with his fourth time, which makes him start on the second row. For him it is important to be able to make a good start because....
"Here nobody gives anything away, and we are very close in performance; overtaking someone is extremely difficult".
Audetto, for his part, adds:
"The race will be very tough, but our drivers and our cars have shown what they can do in the same den as the great British rivals".
The big rivals are of course Hunt with his McLaren, who is second, the usual Tyrrell and an unrestrained Andretti who has brought the Lotus back in good light with his third place on the starting line. Merzario and Brambilla, with the March, are in an excellent situation to have a good race, being respectively ninth and tenth. Both are drivers with a strong sensitivity for tuning and therefore it is not surprising that, even without having the best engines of the Ford Cosworth, they were able to beat drivers like Mass, like Laffite, with the Matra Ligler, and like the Brabham-Alfa racers, Pace and Reutemann.
All is to see which cars will be able to keep up the pace: Brambilla is convinced he can do much better, because trivial problems with the electrical system prevented him from doing all the test laps and perfecting the set-up, but tomorrow he hopes to be able to defend himself well. Merzario, who found in the driver Mario Casoni a sponsor and a friend, is very satisfied with what he considers a good recovery in Formula 1. And it is likely that the Merzario operation will continue with the creation of an Italian team for the driver from Como, in order to avoid him having to depend on the English team, with all the advantages that would follow.
During the tests there is the usual choice of tires and an almost continuous variation of the set-up of the cars, looking for the best grip. Everyone keeps their secrets jealously, but Gordon Coppuck, the McLaren designer, admits that the development of the car started with the 1973 version, then modified in 1975 by simplifying the front suspensions. And this modification, along with other minor ones, made the car more valid. With an engine and a gearbox equal to the others, the car showed a consistent superiority over the other English cars. Less brilliant than expected the performance of the Tyrrell.
Lella Lombardi and Divina Galica will not be present, both excluded because they were not able to score a useful time to qualify for the race. Finally, some technical curiosities: Ferrari engines reach up to 12,500 rpm, Alfa and Matra engines reach 12,000 rpm, Ford engines reach a maximum of 11,000 rpm. McLaren and Alfa have six-speed gearboxes, all the others have five. The Ligier Matra is handicapped by its excessive size, clearly being the car with the largest cross section. The weather seems to continue on the good side, although cooler than on Friday.
Sunday, July 18, 1976 the paying spectators are 77.000 but in reality there are many more people present, judging by the compact crowd. After four hours from the end of the race it is still late to go out; they say that it was spent about half a billion liras to rebuild the pits, but with that amount of money you could also build a second exit and it would not be bad.
At 3:00 pm the start is given regularly, and the twenty-six cars rush up the slight slope that leads to the fast right-hand bend called Paddock Hill Bend. Lauda is in the lead, followed by Regazzoni, who is the author of a brilliant start and is already second, but only three hundred meters from the start there is a tangle of cars: Clay Regazzoni, who has passed James Hunt, hits Niki Lauda's car at the first curve. Subsequently his Ferrari, spinning, collides also with Hunt's car, and is hit by the car of the overcoming Jacques Laffite. In the collision the cars of Regazzoni, Hunt and Laffite are damaged, while Lauda's car suffers only a scratch to the right rear wheel, then replaced as a precaution.
The drivers take the main straight, where the marshals are waiting for them with the red flag that stops the race. Regazzoni manages to return to the finish line with his Ferrari, although damaged, while Hunt leaves the track at the Bottoni Bend, because he has bent steering and a broken suspension, and returns to the rear of the pits. This fact is decisive for the subsequent stages of the race. However, fortunately nobody is injured and a new start is about to be made. At this point, a regulatory confusion begins, even greater than that of the accident.
During the wait, on Lauda's car is replaced the rim of the left rear tire, damaged in the crash, while Hunt climbs on the mule and makes a full lap of the track to greet the public. Even Lauda decides to go back on the track even though he did not have permission, and for this reason both the Austrian and the British will be fined 100 pounds. Arriving at the starting line, race director Dean Delamont, exclaims:
"Hunt, Regazzoni and Laffite have to get out of the starting line-up that is forming again".
But as soon as the announcer pronounces this announcement, the public in the stands begins to make noise, so Delamont, talking to the Ferrari mechanics, confesses:
"How can I throw Hunt out with all this audience?"
The discussion continues, with Hunt deciding to get back into his car, urged on by the fans, despite the stewards telling him not to, as he would have been disqualified. The Briton replies that they could have easily acted against him, but he would have restarted with the repaired car, and not with the mule. In the meantime Niki Lauda says to Ermanno Cuoghi:
"Let me tell you until what time I have to wait for Hunt's convenience, because if it is still long, I will get out of the car".
At 3:45 pm the four McLaren mechanics push the meanwhile repaired car onto the track, and at 3:52 pm, without any warning from the loudspeaker, they hear:
"Three minutes to go".
Montezemolo, Forghieri and Audetto look at each other and say:
"Let's make a complaint".
According to international regulations, Hunt cannot be readmitted to the start, because he was not on the track when the race director had shown the red flag at the end of the first lap; the regulations state that only drivers who had finished the lap where the red flag had been shown can restart the race. It is clear, at this point, that the race is flawed, and that the new start, given at 15:55, would have started a legal issue. Both Hunt and Laffite, however, were forced to retire because of the accident at the start, while Regazzoni was the only one able to return to the pits, even though his car had an accident. So it is decided to restart, cancelling the first start, and to complete all the original seventy-six laps. Even the second start is characterized by a problem: the Lotus of Mario Andretti, who starts third, remains stationary on the grid for a technical problem, but it is dodged by all the overcoming cars.
In the second start Regazzoni, a bit shaken after the accident in the first one, prefers to run with caution: the race is now led by Niki Lauda, followed by James Hunt, Mario Andretti, Clay Regazzoni, Chris Amon, Ronnie Peterson, Jody Scheckter, Patrick Depailler and Hans-Joachim Stuck. During the first lap Amon is passed by Peterson and Scheckter, while Depailler and Stuck come into contact: the German is forced to retire, while Depailler loses many positions. At the second lap Amon is passed also by Vittorio Brambilla. At the fourth lap Andretti stops with the engine blocked by an ignition failure, and Regazzoni passes to the third place. Then Brambilla, on the eighth lap, passes Peterson, while Arturo Merzario passes John Watson, moving up to eighth place.
But the Northern Irishman's car is damaged during the overtaking phase, so much so that Watson is forced to change the nose and start from the back. The following lap Amon retires for a water leak. After ten laps Lauda always leads ahead of Hunt, Regazzoni, Scheckter, Brambilla, Peterson, Merzario and Gunnar Nilsson. At the thirteenth lap Merzario conquers another position passing Peterson, in crisis with the tires, after having managed to avoid a contact with Brambilla. The Swedish driver of the March is forced to a pit stop to change the tires, which forces him to slip to the fifteenth place. At the fifteenth lap also Vittorio Brambilla is forced to a pit stop to change the tires, which will make him go out of the points zone.
These tire failures, caused by the detachment of pieces of tread as big as a hundred lire coin, throw all the teams into panic and they prepare for the worst, that is to change the tires on all the single-seaters. The Goodyear manager tries to calm everyone down, saying that Peterson's March had defective steering and that Brambilla's March had a suspension failure, and that these were the real causes of the abnormal consumption of the tires. Brambilla, in fact, retired due to the breakage of the lower triangle of the front left suspension, while Peterson, after countless other stops, gave up.
At the 26th lap the direction communicates the decision to disqualify Regazzoni (third) and Laffite (ninth) because they restarted with the mule, but leaving James Hunt on the track; at the 32nd lap the French driver is forced to retire because of a broken suspension, while at the 36th lap Regazzoni enters the pits with the engine off. Another broken crankshaft? This time no, but from the driver's gestures it is clear that the oil pressure is dropping rapidly and that the engine has melted. Regazzoni almost had tears in his eyes when he took off his helmet and locked himself in the Ferrari truck to let his anger pass. He certainly thought that if he didn't have the accident, and didn't have to change the car, he could probably get a good result this time.
The situation will be made even more confusing by a statement released by the stewards halfway through the race: it is said in this statement that the reserve cars could not be considered regulation and therefore they would be disqualified; however, since at that time cars 2 and 26 (Regazzoni's Ferrari and Laffite's Ligier) were already out of the race due to breakdowns, the measure was no longer in force. After the retirement of the Ticinese driver, behind the couple Lauda-Hunt there are Jody Scheckter, Arturo Merzario, Gunnar Nilsson, Tom Pryce and Alan Jones, while from the back of the grid the Penske of Watson is recovering and, after an overtaking on Brett Lunger, is ninth. At the thirty-ninth lap Merzario is forced to retire because of a broken driveshaft, after many laps he had been able to challenge the Tyrrell of Jody Scheckter.
On lap 45 James Hunt, who had started with a car curiously set up with more pressure in the rear tire to ensure that the car had a rightward slope to improve grip in the right turns, which are more numerous at Brands Hatch, takes the lead after passing Lauda, who has gearbox problems. One lap later Watson also passes Jones, thus entering the points zone. At the sixty-fourth lap Watson passes Tom Pryce, on whose car there are problems with the engine and, four laps later, also Gunnar Nilsson. The race is won by James Hunt, who crosses the finish line first ahead of Niki Lauda, Jody Scheckter, John Watson, Tom Pryce, Alan Jones and Emerson Fittipaldi.
However, while the last laps were being run, the lawyer Luca Cordero di Montezemolo, on behalf of Ferrari, was already intent on drawing up the complaint on the basis of Article 23 paragraphs B and F of the International Sporting Code, motivating it precisely on the matter of principle that the regulations must be respected. Luca Montezemolo, at the end of the race, while going to the race director to deliver the complaint, says:
"We are very satisfied with Lauda's second place, who thus obtains another set of points for the championship; but we cannot compromise on the question of principle regarding the regulations, which had to be enforced. So we forward the complaint against the participation of Hunt's McLaren car, which was also presented by other teams".
This complaint is then presented in a similar way also by the Tyrrell and Copersucar teams, demonstrating that this is not an unrealistic move on the part of Ferrari that wants to have the first instead of the second place. So, now the ranking is only provisional, waiting for a decision on this new regulatory glitch created by the lack of experience of those who should make the management of races a profession, as they do all the others, from manufacturers to drivers to journalists. The score of the championship is still pending, but with an advantage for Lauda that is always considerable and will be even greater if the complaint will be accepted.
A storm is brewing over the head of Dean Delamont, director of motor sport at the Royal Automobile Club and race director for the British Grand Prix. Delamont is a former journalist and broadcaster, once a passionate motor racer and since 1954 the sporting director of the RAC, as well as a member of the FIA's International Sports Commission. Dean Delamont openly admits that there has been much confusion because international regulations too frequently lend themselves to different interpretations, or are not sufficiently explicit. According to Delamont's statement, the initial decision to suspend the race, which then gave rise to a long sequence of contradictory events, was taken on the initiative of the duty sports commissioner at the first corner after the start.
"I trusted him completely. Like the other seven special marshals stationed along the Brands Hatch track, all of whom were linked by radio, he is a person of great experience in such emergency situations. One car, Laffite's Ligier-Matra, had been stationary sideways after the collision. In addition, the roadway had to be cleared of debris and rocks that could have caused other accidents, or even tire punctures, had the race continued. In less than five seconds from the moment the accident was reported, I gave the order to suspend the race for safety reasons. In accordance with international sporting regulations, the red flag was waved from the start-finish line, and simultaneously, with two crossed flags, from the seven positions along the route linked by radio".
Delamont categorically denied that only drivers who had completed the initial lap could be allowed back into the race after the forced suspension.
"The regulations only specify that those competitors who remained in the race at the time of the suspension are allowed to make the second start" he said. "After the accident Hunt got back on the bike but having damaged the front suspension he could not travel at more than ten kilometers per hour. When he reached the third curve that leads to the straight on the opposite side of the box, he saw the two crossed flags waving and realized that the Grand Prix had been suspended. Therefore he went directly to the pits without completing the lap. The stewards confirmed that at the time of the race stop Hunt's car was still running along the track, although very slowly, so the racer was running styles, as required by the rules".
According to what we later learn from the race director, Tyrrell withdrew its protest after receiving further explanations of the case, while Copersucar did not express its intention to appeal the validation ruling regarding the order of arrival. Instead, the complaint against Hunt presented by Ferrari is rejected, while Regazzoni and the French Jacques Laffite, involved in the collision with his Matra-Ligier, are removed from the race. Now Ferrari will turn to the Royal Automobile Club of Great Britain, the organizer of the Grand Prix, and if it is rejected, the Italian team will have the right to appeal in the second instance to the sporting commission of its national motoring body, which in turn will have to decide whether to forward the file to the international sporting commission, repeating the same procedure that Hunt's McLaren had to follow after the disqualification received in the Spanish Grand Prix. Lauda, for his part, is always laconic and hasty, and about it he says:
"It's right to make the complaint, otherwise what are the regulations for? However, if things continue to go on like this, it is no longer fun to race. As for Delamont, he makes me sick to my stomach".
Regarding the incident on the first lap....
"I was doing my line. What the others did, I don't know. I know I was bumped, but I was able to continue anyway".
On the problem that prevented him from being first at the finish line, Niki then offered precise explanations.
"The gearbox control went crazy from the very first laps, forcing me to search for gears that no longer engaged safely. Towards the end of the race the gearbox control was so hard that I was losing precious tenths of a second at each gear change, losses that added up and gave a gap of three or four seconds a lap over Hunt".
The winners, of course, are elated. Mayer, the head of McLaren, when asked what he thought of the complaint, replies:
"I don't care about it. The important thing is that we won".
More concise is the designer Gordon Coppuck, who when asked the same question replies:
"It's all bullshit".
James Hunt at the end of the lap of honor together with Scheckter, while Lauda is absent, is more colorful in his comment:
"I don't give a damn about the regulations later. I won then let them do what they want...".
When they ask James Hunt if he knew that Tyrrell and Coopersucar have also filed a complaint, the Briton replies:
"Coopersucar who is he? I don't know him. Ferrari should think about it before complaining, because if what happened was the fault of the two Ferrari drivers who triggered the accident. Among other things, I ended up on Clay, who was fighting with Lauda, because someone also bumped into me from behind. I can guarantee that I tried to bring my car back to the pits when on the other side of the track, in the distance, I saw the red flag waving on the finish line tower. That's why I left the track. At that point, however, the race had already been suspended and I could do whatever I wanted. Anyway I can only say one thing, the crowd helped me a lot to win here and if I won it was only because of this enthusiastic English crowd. This week I will test the new car, I don't think I can already run at the Nurburgring".
"I didn't have any problems, my car was perfect in spite of the flight over Regazzoni's head that had touched with Lauda. I was cautiously behind Lauda, also to see if my car had suffered any other damage, then I increased the pace and at the same time I saw Lauda's performance drop, I don't know the reason. I approached him and after studying him I passed him easily. Now I am leaving for Italy because on Monday and Tuesday I am going to a Marlboro meeting with young people in Rimini".
Regazzoni, locked in the Ferrari truck, still mumbles:
"Of course, if he hadn't cut me off, I would have been able to continue without any damage".
When asked the name of the person responsible for the accident, who squeezed him until he left the track, thus damaging the car, Clay does not want to say anything, but it is certain that the only person in front of him was Lauda. Lauda's Ferrari for the English race was brand new, just arrived from Maranello, but it had suffered some problems with the lubrication system during the free practice on Sunday morning; then the gearbox failure deprived the Austrian of a new victory that would have eliminated many controversies. The third place of the Tyrrell of Scheckter is deserved, and it rewards a constructor that has had the courage to revolutionize the concept of car with four wheels making it six.
The day was hot in all senses, both for the temperature and for the events. With regard to the latter, the situation repeated in England - which perhaps only pleased the public, with the double start and the final victory of a home driver - does not allow a quiet future for the sport of driving. All this, however, did not matter to James Hunt, who, after all, only wanted to make the paying public happy and was disappointed when Lauda did not try to regain the first position, preferring to keep the second because of gearbox problems. Once the race is over, in the course of the evening James reaches his friends in the parking lot to participate in a barbecue, who had arrived with tents and motorhomes. The party will go on until midnight, when the parking lot will begin to empty.
Anthony Quartey


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Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit 4K Blu-ray Review
AKA Generic Spy Action Hero
by Casimir Harlow Sep 26, 2018
Review Specs Discussion (5)
Dolby Vision (HDR)
Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit UHD Blu-ray (2018)
Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit Film Review
Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit 4K Picture
Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit 4K Sound
Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit 4K Extras
Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit 4K Verdict
Shadow Recruit is a competent albeit generic reboot that's Jack Ryan in name only, honing its standard spy action with a now-mandatory Bourne/Bond vibe, and forgetting that Ryan's everyman CIA analyst was anything but a superspy.
Whilst Branagh is more than capable of staging action (Thor), and Pine a strong enough lead for any action-adventure, they lost sight on everything that made Ryan, Ryan. Instead they produced this clean-cut, skillfully-edited and generally well-put-together thriller which ostensibly tells the backstory to a character some will know well, but which pays no heed whatsoever to the things that made him such an atypical hero in the first place, instead folding the whole thing into a generic spy actioner world which offers little to nothing new to those familiar with the territory.
Still, for all the faults noted, there's no denying that Shadow Recruit is entertaining and diverting, even if it sometimes feels fitfully so. Everybody does their jobs well – Pine is likeable, Knightley is suitably endearing, Costner is reliably stoic and Branagh occasionally effuses menace. The action too, is, as aforementioned, well-staged, with one particular chase proving effective, and a couple of twists capable of genuinely blind-siding you.
Enter: 2014's Jack Ryan, Mr. Just-Another-Super-Spy.
But the fatal error that takes this film down a point for me is the fact that it could be the origin story of any spy. It could be a prequel tale about Ethan Hunt's recruitment in the early Mission: Impossible years. Jack Ryan is painted as little more than a clumsier, frequently in-over-his-head, Bond variation.
Gone are almost any of the trademarks of Clancy's most popular hero, who could think his way out of any situation, and solve any puzzle with intellect and resourcefulness; gone is the upstanding patriot who would do the right thing no matter if that meant facing off against the President of the United States. Enter: 2014's Jack Ryan, Mr. Just-Another-Super-Spy.
Following suit after their excellent 4K Mission: Impossible 5-film box set (which was undoubtedly released to coincide with the show-stopping Mission: Impossible - Fallout) Paramount release a Jack Ryan 5-film collection on the format (undoubtedly released to coincide with Amazon Prime series Tom Clancy's Jack Ryan), similarly going that extra mile on the video presentations and delivering each and every one of them with Dolby Vision enhancement.
The 2014 final film in the series, Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit, is, unlike all of its predecessors, the only title in the collection sourced from a 2K upscale, which has been used here for this Ultra HD Blu-ray release.
The disc presents a native 3840 x 2160p resolution image in the film's original theatrical aspect ratio of widescreen 2.4:1. It uses 10-bit video depth, a Wider Colour Gamut (WCG) and High Dynamic Range (HDR), as well as Dolby Vision, and is encoded using the HEVC (H.265) codec.
We reviewed the UK Ultra HD Blu-ray release of Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit on a LG 55B7 Dolby Vision 4K Ultra HD OLED TV with an LG UP970 Dolby Vision 4K Ultra HD Blu-ray player.
It may not be the standout film, but it's arguably the standout presentation.
Despite being the only entry sourced from a 2K Digital Intermediate, much like the upscaled 4K presentation of Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation, Shadow Recruit looks excellent, and is at least on par with the native 4K presentation of the last entry, The Sum of All Fears, beating - at least on a technical level - the three preceding movies. Of course it also had the best source, the 2014-shot feature already looking largely reference on its Blu-ray release, and certainly following suit here, finding it hard to provide anything beyond a modest uptick in detail and clarity. The refinement is still evident, fine-tuning the already impressive foundation and giving it that added level of crispness.
The implementation of HDR, WCG and Dolby Vision all benefit this presentation more than the prior ones too, particularly since it doesn't appear to have been given that monochromatic pass that certainly affects the 4K presentations for the first three movies, and is still more obvious on The Sum of All Fears than here, where Shadow Recruit escapes almost completely unscathed, happy to peddle in its cool electronic blues, warm golden luxury, and more explosive confrontations with some vibrance and pop. It may not be the standout film, but it's arguably the standout presentation.
Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit, as with the other Clancy titles in this Jack Ryan Collection, and as with the 4K Mission: Impossible 5-film Collection, hasn't been afforded any kind of Dolby Atmos enhancement, with Paramount going that extra mile for Dolby Vision, but rendering the audio in the same shape it was in a decade ago for the Blu-ray release which, again, as with the later M:i titles, now means an upgrade to at least DTS-HD Master Audio 7.1.
All in all, a demo and reference offering.
The track pretty damn impressive, a stomping lossless mix that boasts both precision and potency, crafting an engaging, immersive experience that makes the most out of the lacklustre material. Dialogue transcends the rest of the elements on offer, remaining crystal clear and coherent throughout, largely given precedence over the frontal array and dominating the mix where appropriate.
Effects are very well-observed indeed, with a rich and finely-tuned soundscape which has been designed to observe the tiniest of atmospheric elements as well as relish the more thunderous components. From gunshots to car and even helicopter crashes, the surrounds are expertly utilised and the LFE channel given voice throughout the proceedings, but the quieter stealth moments boast almost equally impressive observational touches, and the various settings and setpieces help contribute towards a consistently colourful atmosphere. The score is fairly nondescript and forgettable, but offers further material which the surrounds and LFE channel wield engagingly. All in all, a demo and reference offering.
The 4K disc carries over the Commentary, whilst the Featurettes and Deleted Scenes are on the Blu-ray.
At least, through the lens of the more consistent offering afforded by the latest Tom Clancy's Jack Ryan TV series on Amazon Prime, 2014's Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit is no longer the final nail in the coffin of Clancy's prized protagonist. Whilst a serviceable spy thriller, efficiently made and extremely polished, it's cookie-cutter plotting and characterisation which completely ignores everything that made Clancy's novels - and the character of Ryan - so unusual in favour of just another Bond/Bourne-lite affair.
For more in-depth reviews of the films themselves, read the original retrospective reviews here: The Hunt for Red October, Patriot Games, Clear and Present Danger and The Sum of All Fears, done at the time of the release of Shadow Recruit.
Completely ignores everything that made the character of Ryan so unusual in favour of just another Bond/Bourne-lite affair.
Paramount's UK 4K Ultra HD Blu-ray release of Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit - at least for the time being - is only available as part of the 5-film Jack Ryan box set (which also includes The Hunt for Red October 4K, Patriot Games 4K, Clear and Present Danger 4K and The Sum of All Fears 4K), and whilst it's arguably the weakest entry, it also looks and sounds the best. The set comes highly recommended.


Off-Grid Knives - 5 in 1 Spring Assisted, AUS-8 Tanto Blade Survival Knife with Fire Starter, LED Flashlight, Emergency Glass Breaker, Seat Belt Cutter & Custom Sheath with Sharpening Stone. The Off-Grid Tactical Survival Knife is a genius life saving tool exclusively from Off-Grid Tactical.
The Perfect 5 in 1 Survival Tool Whether you keep it in your car or bring it camping, it's nice to know you have an excellent emergency back-up plan. Read more Razor Sharp Semi- Serrated AUS-8 Tanto Blade The blade is spring assisted, use the right thumb stud to flip the tanto blade into action Anti-corrosion & black coated Japanese AUS-8 steel Serration excellent for cutting rope or sparking the fire starter ferro rod Extremely sharp tanto edge and tip Read more Mini LED Flashlight Don't let the size fool you, this detachable LED flashlight is very powerful & great to have in an emergency Slips in and out of the LED slot held in by a magnet Simple twist on & and twist off operation Read more Glass Breaker, Seatbelt Cutter, Internal Ferro Rod & Belt Clip Stuck in a car? Bust out the window with the rock solid glass breaker Stuck in a car with the seatbelt jammed? Slice the belt with the razor sharp external blade Night is creeping in, spark an emergency camp fire with the internal ferrocerium rod Convenient belt clip for easy access Read more Don't Leave The Grid Without It! Comes with a custom nylon sheath with belt loop Comes with a sharpening stone that fits in the sheath's custom pocket Original army green color Bottom line, why not own this life saving 5 in 1 survival tool?
All items are IN STOCK at the time of listing. The item "Off-Grid Knives 5 in 1 Spring Assisted, AUS-8 Tanto Blade Survival Knife wi" is in sale since Monday, April 30, 2018.
This item is in the category "Collectibles\Knives, Swords & Blades\Collectible Fixed Blade Knives\Modern Fixed Blade\Factory Manufactured". The seller is "premierlifestyles" and is located in US. This item can be shipped worldwide.


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Mr Hutchings is a Consultant Orthopaedic Surgeon at University Hospitals of Leicester NHS Trust with a busy private practice at Nuffield Healthcare Leicester and Spire Hospital Leicester. Mr Hutchings has a specialist interest in complex total hip replacement surgery, revision total hip replacement surgery, total knee replacement surgery, arthroscopic knee surgery and lower limb trauma.
Total hip replacement is a surgical technique where the severely damaged cartilage & bone of hip joint is removed & substituted with an artificial prosthesis which is bio-compatible and functions similar like a normal hip. It is one of the most common joint replacement procedures, subsequent to knee replacements. The main aim of surgery is to restore function to the joint and relieve pain.