Roger Hicks

I’m a slut for cuteness. Give me half a chance (and the correct tools) and I’ll etch Hello Kitty’s outline into every tooth I can reach.

I’m especially prone to cute robots. Unlike their mammary-beglanded counterparts, they don’t need to be housebroken, you can tinker around inside them without getting your hands covered in blood, and it is much simpler to attach flame throwers and pulse rifles to their body parts.

So it is not terribly shocking, then, that the sight of Celestial Mechanica – with its triple posthypnotic suggestion of things cute, robotic and Metroidvanic – reduced me to a drooling state of automatic consumer obedience. Continue reading

I’m terrible at decisions. For example: Do I pick the Peking Duck or the chocolate shortbread? Should I tie my shoelaces or let them drag in the mud to show off my nihilistic pretension? Do I want a pet rabbit or a sniper rifle?

Here’s another one: How do I top my first post? Continue reading