My protege, Alistair Wallis, was lucky enough to be able to
interview me recently for his little column on GameSetWatch. Maybe I wasn't in the best frame of mind, given that it was in the middle of something of a mind-expanding bender.
Maybe, though, that was exactly the best frame of mind to be in: words flowed, ideas were born like lambs. Twitchy at first, legs shaky - oops! Don't fall, little lamb! Don't let the hard ground bruise you! - but then firmer, and stronger, drinking from their mother; suckling and becoming
RAMS, not sheep. That's how it works with me. That's just how it goes. That's the new, new games journalism.
The interview hasn't been up for more than a day and already people are talking about it, just like I said they would.
"Maverick". Well, yeah. Naturally.
"Every maverick needs his Dr. Gonzo," they said. Except...Matt Hestill works alone - Raoul Duke, Dr. Gonzo, Shiva, Father, Son and Holy Ghost all in one. Saviour and destroyer of games journalism. Sometimes, to fix the nose, you need to break it again, so I'm here gripping between thumb, forefinger and middle finger, ready for it to snap.
But which way to break it?
