Are you sitting down? Sit down. Are you wearing a hat? Take it off. Do you have a catheter? Plug it in.

Leonard Nimoy, whom most of you probably know best from the original (O.G.) 1960’s Star Trek, passed away this morning. He was 83. He had been hospitalized for the last couple days with chest pains related to chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. Don’t smoke, kids.

Writing this post is really quite a strange, detached kind of feeling, for despite seeing the news earlier this week of his hospitalization and therefore being kinda-sorta-almost steeled towards this possibility, it never really felt like the kind of thing that could actually happen. I’ve been watching this guy on and off basically my entire life. That should’ve made the guy immortal. Y’know? He should be running on a beach somewhere with Sean Connery as we speak.

Nimoy had a long and storied career before and after Star Trek. From the scratchy black-and-white westerns that seemingly everyone on the original Trek cast appeared in at one point or another, to the pointed ears that made him a household name, to authoring books in rebellion against (and later in acceptance of) the role that made him most famous, and standout roles on shows like Fringe.

Then there was all the stuff I’m sure he’d rather forget. The Bilbo Baggins song is one such example, part of an album produced during a period in the entertainment business when just about everyone was contractually obligated to moonlight as a singer regardless of interest or skill. Mr. Nimoy was arguably more successful at it than than Shatner at least. Common People notwithstanding.

Better oddities include guest spots as himself on both The Simpsons and Futurama, and more than a few voice credits in video games, such as the modern classic Civilization IV, where he reads quotes ranging from the wisdom of Aristophanes to Sputnik’s beeps, and lesser-known games like Yoot Saito’s bizarre Sega Dreamcast curiosity Seaman. Apparently he was even in a recent Kingdom Hearts game, which wrinkles my brain in ways I never thought imaginable.

His final appearance was a brief return to Spock in 2013’s Star Trek Into Darkness, and while the film may not have lit the world aflame, his presence was never not welcome. And if some neckbearded Trekkie says anything to the contrary I will fight them against a reddish-purple backdrop to the music from Amok Time. And that’s no lie.

If you’d like some weekend homework, try the aforementioned Amok Time, plus other Spock highlight reel episodes from the original series such as The Galileo Seven. For an experience at the opposite end of the quality spectrum, grab a bottle of gin with some green food colouring and brace yourself for Spock’s Brain. The movies might hit too close to home right now, but Wrath of Khan, Search for Spock, and Voyage Home are all great for the character. Cap your evening off with the Unification two-parter from The Next Generation if you’re in the mood for something more modern. All are available on Netflix and probably those clicky-clacky “library tapes.”

It’s going to be weird for a while going into this new, post-Nimoy world. If you’re feeling just as uneasy, take solace in the fact that he’s only the third actor from the original Star Trek’s regular cast to pass away so far. (Contrast that statistic with fellow television sci-fi staple Babylon 5, which has lost more actors in 20 years than Star Trek has in 50.) It would be difficult to live a life longer and more illustrious than Leonard Nimoy did and his impact was considerable for a “mere” actor and entertainer, which ensures that in some small way, maybe he really is immortal.

A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP

By now you’re likely aware of The History Channel’s Ancient Aliens, a dubious examination of suspected extraterrestrial activity throughout Earth’s past. Similar to the ongoing march of soulless reality programming on TLC (hey, remember when they were owned by NASA?) Ancient Aliens is an example of The History Channel’s questionable grasp of their own mission statement.

As fallacious as the science is, and as disreputable as host Giorgio A. “Crazy Hair” Tsoukalos appears to be, Ancient Aliens is unwittingly hilarious. Therefore, we feel that it’s the perfect target for our first Caffeine-Fueled Drinking Game!

Note: Team CF cannot condone attempting this ordeal with anything less than a 6-pack per person, given the content you’ll be dealing with. Additionally, under no circumstances should you spend actual money on this show in any form. You may regret that more than the hangover. Please drink responsibly, observe all local liquor laws, and practice good science.

With that in mind, it’s time for the game!

• Someone suggests that aliens existed in history because a painting, wall carving, jar, or other bit of art “suggests” alien activity, while completely ignoring the religious aspects of said art because obviously “gods don’t exist.”

• It is implied the aliens are gods. You will be destroyed no matter which episode you watch.

• Crazy Hair says something to the effect of “it was aliens because [insert blank here] doesn’t exist!” Complementary to the aformentioned god rules.

• George Noory of Coast To Coast AM makes an appearance. Take two drinks if you wish it was Art Bell instead.

• Someone gets history, mythology, or part of a culture so mind-numbingly, astoundingly wrong, that you wonder if the “expert” in question has even opened a book in his or her lifetime.

• The narrator says words like “clearly,” “perhaps,” or “it is likely” when suggesting that the answer to alien activity on Earth is right before our eyes.

• They slip in some actual experts who are actually talking about a subject they know about (such as that poor man from the Joseph Campbell Foundation) in order to make it look like they are talking about aliens. Look! A real expert talking about smart stuff! He has a degree and everything!

• Someone suggests a bird, carpet, chariot, flying elephant, ray of sun, or pretty much anything not on the ground in a piece of artwork could’ve been representing a spaceship.

• Anyone mentions the book Chariots of the Gods. You should be plastered in the first fifteen minutes of the show due to this rule alone.

• You shut off Ancient Aliens and start watching the South Park parody episode A History Channel Thanksgiving instead. Many of these rules should still apply.

• Crazy Hair compares something in a piece of art to a modern invention and suggests aliens gave ancient cultures that piece of technology. For example, in one episode a bracelet on a carving was compared to a wrist watch, thus proving aliens not only need to tell time despite having hyperdrives or faster-than-light travel, but prefer Swatch to digital. Editor’s note: someday everyone will be running on Swatch Internet Time. Get hip to the .beats

• You spot producer Kevin Burns’ name in the credits and briefly mistake him for the far more successful documentarian Ken Burns of The War fame.

• Anything Crazy Hair says starts to make sense. You’ve had enough.

We hope you enjoyed the game! Join us again next time for more alcohol-fueled entertainment. Until then, we’ll be trying to catch Giorgio Tsoukalos before he starts a war with the Narn.

This week marks the release of Suikoden III in North America ten years ago. The game also came out in Japan at the same time and, infamously, never came out in PAL territories ostensibly due to quality control rules regarding localisation languages in Europe.

Suikoden III is an interesting game in that it marks the end of a lot of things about the series. This was the last game that original scenario designer/all-round Suikoden creator Muryama Yoshitaka worked on, for starters.

Muryama created Suikoden as a one-off game. Through a mixture of good timing and luck, the first Suikoden came out in a relative barren RPG landscape on the original PlayStation. That game did well enough to earn itself a sequel. Suikoden II, although set in the same world as the original game, three years in the future, functions as something more akin to a re-imagining of the original title. The (contextual) success of this title saw Suikoden become a bonafide franchise with three side games and a slightly dizzying array of merchandise and publications separating Suikoden II from its numerical successor.

By this point, Muryama had some sort of idea about the greater plot of the series. Although each game deals with regional wars in a technologically stagnant world, the arcing plot was growing more to encompass the role of the 27 True Runes, the magical crests which governed every aspect of the world. Their role in the struggle between Order and Chaos, intersecting with questions of free will and destiny were commented on in the first two games but really came to the fore in Suikoden III.

Despite the successes of the original batch of Suikoden games on the first Playstation, Konami had reservations about the direction of this overarching plot. The rumours persisted as to the reasoning, from simply busybody executives, to concerns that if the plot were to be wrapped up soon, then the reliable profit earner would be no more but in the end, the result is the same; Muryama Yoshitaka was to leave the team towards the end of Suikoden III’s development cycle.

Suikoden III was also the swansong for series artist Ishikawa Fumi. Ishikawa was the artist from Suikoden II onwards, replacing Kawano Junko’s slightly more art nouveau style of work with a hard-lined, bright coloured look and more detailed costumes which captured more attention in the early 2000s. Although there is no indication of disastisfaction with her, she would be replaced by her predecessor, Kawano Junko, once a new producer for Suikoden IV was announced. That producer? Kawano Junko.

Let’s not delude ourselves into thinking that Suikoden III was the last traditional Suikoden title before it was overwhelmed by heathens, however. It is important to remember that Suikoden III was a very divisive title when it was first released. Although praised by contemporary critics at the time (the game still holds the highest average Metacritic rating for all Suikoden titles), the game proved to have as many detractors as supporters within the growing quote-unquote “Suikoden community.”

Although the Trinity Sight System that was the core of the games narrative proved relatively uncontentious, some complained of the repetition of visiting previously seen locales with new characters at different points in the narrative. Some were more irked with the idea that enemies, enemies, were Stars of Destiny in this title, showing the growing conservatism that quickly grips the fanbase of any media type.

This conservative element of the fanbase also dismayed of the series jump to 3D graphics over the beautiful sprite work of the first two games which lent the game a distinctive visual style. By choosing a slightly super deformed style over more realistic modelling, the game managed to maintain some semblance of a unique aesthetic while still maintaining clarity.

The majority of fandom complaints however stemmed from the battle system, which featured six characters sorted into three groups of two. You would choose the commands for one character in each group, with the second character entering into a sort of AI-informed support role on each turn, based on the commands selected. As far as RPG battle systems go, it’s fairly unobtrusive and easy to get to grips with even if it’s question what, exactly, it’s supposed to bring to the game but as far as a vocal segment of fans were concerned this was the equivalent of Dirge of Cereberus: Final Fantasy VII.

Suikoden III’s plot continued the themes of the original games, namely that of a local conflict where there are multiple points of view. The Trinity Sight System, however, allowed this to be explored with more than mere platitudes for the first time in the series. The ability to take on three different perspectives in the narrative, with the bonus of three other minor narratives for added detail, allowed Suikoden to process a more complicated and nuanced plot in a segmental manner, allowing layers to fall gradually and gaps to be filled in when dictated by the story and not the linear narrative of the first two games.

Not that Suikoden III’s story should be considered high art. It embraces the noble savage stereotype so hard you expect Kevin Costner to play the lead role and many story and plot elements are either of their time (if you’re being generous) or near farcical (if you’re not). But what it does, it does well, providing a broad stroke look at issues of colonialism, cultural development and the disconnect between war and those who would run them. Combining that with the most developed cast of characters in any of the games and the added layer of the predestination concepts mentioned earlier results in a plot that secures depth through the sheer physical mass of its storyline if nothing else.

In the end, Suikoden III was a game of incremental changes in gameplay, which angered a reactionary fanbase and plot nuances which met with wide approval. As a talisman for the series, it was largely a failure. It certainly failed to galvanise the series and fanbase in the same manner as Suikoden II.

Looking back, many fans view it as a sort of last hurrah for the series, even as it stumbles on like a zombie with 2011’s Genso Suikoden Tsumugareshi Hyakunen no Toki not exactly setting the world on fire. At the time, many thought it might mark the beginning of the end. Perhaps, uniquely in this case, they’re both right. Although it is amusing to think that a title which deals so much with stagnation preceded what some see as the biggest run of intellectual stagnation in an RPG series to date.

Doctor Who: The Eternity Clock finally arrives on the PlayStation Network, with later releases planned for the Vita and the PC, after missing its original release date by about a month. Still, that’s OK, the TARDIS often misses its target dates by much larger margins.

Two things need to be said about Doctor Who: The Eternity Clock. First, it is not a very good game. Second, it is the best Doctor Who game ever. If that makes it worth twenty of your preferred currency unit then so be it, you won’t really need a review to tell you what to do. Good for you, mate.

The Eternity Clock is a 2D platformer on a 3D plane with some for-the-most-part uninspiring puzzles to break up the monotony somewhat. The rather bare bones plot sees the TARDIS make an emergency landing on Earth due to a “time storm” and from then on it’s basically every over-the-top all-star fan fiction as Cybermen, Daleks, Silent and more show up for various reasons, necessitating a visit to the Eternity Clock, some sort of giant depository of all time and events that probably contradicts a million Doctor Who stories and audio books. It certainly reads like some sort of overwrought and ultimately hollow season finale “event.”

So what we have got here? The plot switches between the Doctor and River Song, voiced by Matt Smith and Alex Kingston respectively, as they bop along in their sub-Little Big Planet gameplay adventures. Developers Supermassive Games are most known for their LBP expansion packs and it is certainly that game that Eternity Clock draws the most influence from. While the Doctor’s sections tend to feature slightly more block pushing and River’s features some awful stealth gameplay, the differences are minimal.

The game actually starts off promisingly enough. Matt Smith is in good form voicing the Doctor and the starting platform segments ease you in while giving you a bounty of quips and wisecracks (“Who designed this thing, Escher?!” he notes of the Bank of England, which has more platforms and switch puzzles than the real thing, I imagine). The whole feeling is only enhanced when you find a selection of hats, bonus collectable items that the Doctor can make many joyful references from his past about (including a 42 reference, of all things). Even the first puzzle type is pretty clever, using the R stick to calibrate the Sonic Screwdriver to the correct frequency to open a series of doors. It seems like you’re in for a simple, but fun game.

And then you switch over to River Song and everything starts to slip a little. Even if you’re a big River fan, you’ll be a wee bit disappointed. She’s quite muted, doesn’t have any witty lines to draw you in, despite Alex Kingston doing her best with what she’s given (note to writers: “Hello, sweety” is a fine catchphrase but is not funny in and of itself). Her inaugural level, breaking out of Stormcage, is basically a series of trial and error encounters with buggy guards who will randomly decide whether they spot you or not that only serves to remind you of all those poorly-thought out stealth sections put in games in the mid-90’s after Metal Gear Solid came out. Her gun, once you get it, has very little use, only stunning most enemies momentarily because without a constant stream of drones, the gameplay is rendered defunct. Soon enough though you’re reunited with the Doctor and then the game slips between Doctor, River and dual levels on a regular basis

But by then, even when you’re back in the Doctor’s shoes, things start to drag. The puzzles become more obtuse (not difficult, on Medium difficulty most puzzles should only take one try) and poorly explained, the difference between the two characters lessens and the laughs become fewer as the dialogue becomes bogged down in the usual Doctor-River fluff, except not as tightly written. The style of writing that we come to expect from Doctor Who is not necessary in most games, but in a Doctor Who game whose main draw is most certainly not its gameplay? It starts to kill the motivation to keep going after it suddenly vanishes.

Even then, Eternity Clock could have made for an average, if uninspired game but the various bug and glitches are a constant niggle that can continually frustrate you. Enemies will either spot you or not for no real reason, the music and dialogue will cut out and then pick up again later, going through everything you missed so you’re hearing conversations from 20 minutes ago play out. The goodwill the game earns in its opening 15 minutes slowly evaporates as you continue to jump about levels with inconsistent checkpoints, often secretive objectives and questionable design choices (enemies continue to advance and attack not only while you’re attempting puzzles but while you’re reading the tutorials for them).

The collectables continue to be fun (the Doctor referencing the UNIT dating controversy and the Valeyard, of all things, is always good for a chuckle and River’s “An Unearthly Mess” diary entry is fun) but with no gameplay value they’re not a large motivation to continue playing. Nice touches abound through the game with some choice lines of dialogue (including a small, almost unnoticeable Torchwood reference), a handful of atmospheric settings and a plot that if thin, at least tries to make up for it with bombast but that hardly seems enough.

Graphically, the game resembles some sort of missing link between an excellent PlayStation 2 and an average PS3 game. However, everything is more than adequate and any weaknesses in the game’s look stems from its love of dark, muted colours which hide detail and make things more complicated than they need to be. As for the music, when it sticks to the Murray Gold tracks things are OK but when it ventures off that, the quality drops to mediocre. There’s nothing here that’s going to stick in your head after you turn the game off.

Still, this is the best Doctor Who game ever made, beating out 1997’s just-below-mediocre Destiny of the Doctors. Even if you disagree on that, it is certainly the best Eleventh Doctor game by a large, large margin. Maybe that’s enough, considering the developers, the budget and the time frame involved (a little under five months from announcement to release). If you loved Little Big Planet but felt it needed to have more dark underground settings and no customizations, you’ll enjoy this game. If you’re a huge Doctor Who fan, you’ll probably buy this game anyway and will scramble for anything, anything to enjoy, like I did. There’s some potential here, but it’s just obscured and finally overwhelmed by its flaws.

Downloadable content is said to be in the works, in order to continue the plot apparently. There’s a chance to improve upon the gameplay but such things usually aren’t the focus of DLC. This is the game we have and while some of the bugs, such as the infrequent crashes back to the PlayStation menu, might get fixed, there isn’t likely to be an upswing in gameplay. Sure, the TARDIS looks better in the new series but it doesn’t matter if I keep having to watch The Idiot’s Lantern on repeat, does it?

If this game were some part of the series, it would be the 1996 “movie” with Paul McGann. Neither are absolutely terrible and you’ll probably like the Doctor in both but in the end, there’s too much pointless chasing, frustrating elements and logical gaps that even if you’re sad they never followed up on the movie and would be sad if Supermassive Games don’t follow this up with another attempt, at least you’ll understand why.