I watched enough of the first episode of The Expanse to know that I should be reading the books; when I grabbed the first three in a boxed set a couple months later, I'd only read about a quarter of it before I breathlessly invoked Article G of the Friendship Accords to push it on Mike.

When we were writing the strip originally, it was on a completely different topic. But when the topic of the Symmetra rework came up, it was clearly like I had jostled a sore tooth. I decided that these perpetual torments might be a superior topic.

I got blown up over it in chat; I'd bought the Battle Pass with real money, but I hadn't taken the time to purchase any items between rounds (LOL or DOTA style) with pretend money, which was an irony too great for their mind to contain all at once.

I can help explain the dad joke phenomenon, I think. I may be uniquely qualified to do so.

I consistently buy and play them - the newest Smash on the 3DS reliably generated its martial slapstick. But I would be lying right to your face if I said I've ever been able to authentically conceive of the activity within the game. I still play it! I still have fun. I still play as Samus Aran and fire charge shots from the other side of the map. But it's like a kind of quantum puppet show and I could not explain it to you.

The wonder-working power of the personal computer as a game platform has continued to unfold, a fluid neon origami trick, in Gabriel's life. Among other things, which include the absorption of indie excursions I wouldn't even go near, he's now in a position to try Overwatch content while it's still dough in the middle.

I think I might know sort of what people were trying to say, but I'm still pretty a pretty young Paladins player so I see a lot of things where it's like… what bin does this go in? Is this a play suggestion? Or is it just a racist epithet I haven't seen yet?

Obviously, I was forced to engage in chops-busting. If I see a chop, I go in. That being said, I mean… I don't give a fuck what he's got in there as long as he's got his hand on a mouse.

Today’s comic is sort of the reverse of this comic strip we did back in 2014. Jerry doesn’t care about televisions and listening to him talk about shopping for one was enough to give me a migraine. When I decided to pick up a gaming PC I knew I could ask him for advice but I didn’t think I needed whatever supercomputer he was gonna try and talk me into. I just wanted to play some PC games and not spend a bunch of money. So I bought my setup in secret and I’ve been having a blast.

The story is true, unfortunately. Unfortunately for him. For the rest of us, we get bloomed-out, nostalgic imagery to enjoy.

I know intellectually that I like Splinter Cell. I always have. For your use, my favorite Splinter Cell games are Chaos Theory and Conviction. But I didn't remember being fucking insane about it, possibly because it's been gone so long. But I might be. I might be cuckoo for a very particular brand of Cocoa Puffs.

It was like five minutes into the start of this E3 shit that we found out about Battle Royale coming to Battlefield V, but it's like… Battlefield's inherent virtues mean that it has something to say here. Powerful vehicles, classes, and destruction are going to flip this thing on its head. For a Royale game, tech wise? DICE started on third base.

One day there may be an apparatus designed to fully articulate the moment a trend becomes a genre. Recall that shooters were called Doom Clones, for example. Until this machine is constructed, perhaps from a sliver of replicating extraterrestrial alloy, let's try this: a trend becomes a genre when the "clones" start getting really, really cool.

I've mentioned it before, but it's pertinent so you'll have to endure it again:

I'm as surprised as anybody: Solo is good. I wasn't even gonna go see it; I have shit to do, and after The Last Jedi watching a Star Wars movie during its theatrical run isn't a guarantee anymore. I've adopted something like the rigor of Cold War Deterrence when it comes to that: unless I get the okay from two friends, I'm not going. They aren't owed my money but more than that they aren't owed my time.

Gabriel has described this comic as a Public Service Announcement. It's a public service announcement from an alternate universe where people drink medicine out of magic holes. Look! I don't know about it yet. I just tried to help him.