It sounds like I’m hating every minute of this incredibly fun (and relatively cheap) new game collection but I’m not. I’ve always been an impatient man and Crash Bandicoot does not go well with impatient people. He just falls. ALL THE DAMN TIME!!! Jumping one’s way to victory is a risky manoeuvre whether it’s the Olympics or a 3-D platformer. Just because it looks good and is really fun when I’m not constantly falling off a ledge won’t stop me from snapping a PS4 controller into plastic kindling.
Hey maybe I’m just bad at video games and Crash doesn’t deserve all that hate. A poor workman blames his tools after all. And Crash is a tool in fact. An enormous tool. An idiot of such stupendous power that not only is he incapable of speech but that only his extreme stupidity can save the weird world he inhabits. Poor Dr Cortex just can’t catch a break from this idiotic rodent. But enough haranguing of the creature it’s time for me to tape my controller back together and go spin some evil plant into oblivion and then have Crash fall into lava ten seconds later. That’s what I’m ‘enjoying’ at the moment. Andrew Carroll
I’ve just moved into a house that has Netflix. Thus, I’ve been catching up on all the streaming service’s content – the slow-burn of Bloodline, the epic scope of Sense8, the winning GLOW. However, I’m going to fly the flag for their latest series Gypsy. It stars Naomi Watts as a psychiatrist who begins to endanger her seemingly “perfect” life with her husband (Billy Crudup) as she embroils herself in the lives of her patients.
Although it’s received a mixed reception from critics, I like the show because it’s fast-paced but meditative, pulpy but adult – filling a void left by the first two seasons of The Affair. I’m drawn to films or series about the clash between ordinary sensible behaviour and repressed unconscious desire – something at the heart of Gypsy. The cast is stellar too (Sing Street’s Lucy Boyton is particularly good). Plus, Fifty Shades‘ Sam Taylor-Wood directed the first two episodes, setting the template for the series’ lush, glamorous look. Stephen Porzio
The International Bar
So if like my little self, the majority of your chums have vacated the country for the summer (the bastards), leaving you alone in Dublin town, you may find yourself sitting at home in the evenings twiddling thumbs with the lights off far more often than you would like to be (no? Just me I guess). And although a direct connection has yet to be made between twiddling thumbs and mental health issues, I’m taking it upon myself to call this one in advance.
Even though most of your friends may be scattered to all ends of the country (try Africa, Asia, Tipperary, Canada, US, Switzerland, France and Tipperary for a few), there’s actually plenty around Dublin you can do with just a handful of mates or even solo if you wish, and for cheap too (after four months of a bullshit unpaid internship, cheap is getting to be a necessity).
The International Bar on Wicklow Street do a fun little open mike night downstairs on Wednesday nights. It probably won’t start on time and not everyone performing sounds like Hozier, but it’s cozy, chill and free in, so is well worth popping down to soak up the atmosphere. I’ve availed of this on more than one occasion this summer, and works well when you need to get a last bus or Luas home too (working life truly sucks). They also do a comedy night if that’s your thing, consult the site for more deets. James Holohan