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I've been playing the PC version of Ghost Recon: Advanced Warfighter 2 (a game nowhere near as fun as one with an ancroynm that sounds like a cartoon monster should be. The campaign for the word 'graw' to be re-adopted by something sillier starts here). In one of the mid-game missions, a Mexican chap who's helping my US commando squad rid his country of thinly-sketched renengades laments the horrific damage done to his hometown, at least some of which was the airstrike and mortar bombings I called in on the last level. "Theeeeeees ceeeeety, what have we done to her?" he cries, in textbook comedy Mexicanspeak.

There's a pause. Then Scott Mitchell, the lead Ghost - and the player character - smarmily replies, "It's called the price of peace." This was delivered in exactly the same tone as, say, "shut up and be thankful, you dumb gringo" would have been.

I snarled at the screen in disgust, manouvered Mitchell into the nearest firefight I could find and left him to die. Then I played Peggle instead. Hint to games designers: make your heroes also likeable by people who aren't raging patriot gun-nuts.

I finally got around to playing the Dutch freeware game, De Blob. In it you take control of the titular blob, who is a crashlanded alien charged with absorbing the rainbow-coloured denizens of grey Dutch cities and transforming the city into large blocks of primary colour. It's a purely mouse-controlled game and feels similar the single-button 16-bit era games. In fact it almost feels weird to only use a single button in a game these days - I'm so used to keyboards and gem-encrusted twenty-thumb gamepads.

It also made me motion sick for the first time in my life. I'm 29 and motion sick at last. I assumed that years of videogame abuse had immunised me from such effects, but perhaps the mad camera twirling of De Blob has finally got to me. Does this mean I'm getting old? I need to lie down.

Despite nausea I can earnestly recommend De Blob. It's weird and cute, and really nothing like Katamari. You can download De Blob's English version right here. Please post reports of motion-related illness in the comments. Eugh.

Welcome to Rock, Paper, Shotgun. We'll be writing about games, you'll be reading about games. PC games, mostly, with a hint of retro.

Being a big ol' list of the big neat things on RPS you may want to read if you're a newcomer. Or a particularly inattentive oldie. ULTROMEGAFEATURES: Features so big we give them a silly name. The Go Team! Team Fortress 2, class by class. The RPS 2007 Game-O-Calendar: Looking back at the best games of 2007. Games For 2008: The year preview in full.

INTERVIEWS: Developers with high talkosity verbospeaking. Raph "Theory Of Fun" Koster talks MMOs and Metaplace. Ron "Monkey Island 2" Gilbert talks Deathspank. Soren "Civ4" Johnson talks about PC gaming. Eric Wolpaw on writing for Valve, and writing Portal .David Speyrer on making Half-Life 2: Episode Two. Kim Swift and Jeep Barrett on making Portal. Ken Levine on the Making of Bioshock. The Splash Damage story: Paul Wedgwood on how they got to make Quake Wars: Enemy Territory. Robin Walker and Charlie Brown on Team Fortress 2. Part 1. Part 2. Professor Henry Jenkins on games and academia. Nathan ‘Oveur’ Richardsson on Eve Online. Adam 'Cargo Cult' Foster on Half-Life 2 super-mod MINERVA: Metastasis.

MAKING OF: Interviews with Developers on the origins of classic games Collect them all by clicking the Making Of tag. Hostile Waters Freedom Force Harvey Smith Rise of Nations Laser Squad Nemesis Arx Fatalis City Of Heroes The Longest Journey Settlers II Operation: Flashpoint Cannon Fodder 2 Thief: Deadly Shadows A Tale In The Desert Dungeon Siege Sacrifice Shogun Total War Outcast

As you reach out to open the door, the Calendar throbs and quivers, its surface rippling in an uncanny, fleshy manner. A low growl comes from somewhere within and as the tip of your finger reaches the door, you feel something very much like a vein, pulsing beneath your touch. Recoiling in horror, you stumble and would fall to the ground if there were nothing to support you. But there is. Somebody is in the Calendar's chamber with you, though you entered alone. He folds you into his arms, his robe softer than fog. His beard bristles gently.

"The time is not yet right." His voice is like the cracking of thin ice on a lake and the breath that carries it smells of spun sugar and mulled wine. "You must obey the rules for the Calendar has been known to punish those who do not respect the passage of time. That is, after all, its purpose. To chronicle the end of things. The last person who pried open a portal before its time is still lost somewhere within the calendar, behind a door with no number. When no creatures are stirring in this house, I sometimes hear the scratches as he tries to find a way out, lost in the dark. Ho ho ho."

You turn to see this nocturnal visitor but there is a clattering of hooves, a cold shudder of frosty air, and you are alone in the chamber once more.

We rather puzzlingly haven't written anything else about that game yet. Sorry! But we will, one day. Probably.